


Something Blue

by Aviss



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, F/M, No Twincest, jaime lannister wedding planner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviss/pseuds/Aviss
Summary: Jaime Lannister was a wedding planner, though he sometimes missed his old job where he was actually allowed to kill people.Ten minutes with his latest clients and he was already convinced they should not get married. He wasn't a marriage counsellor though, he wasn't invested in this Hunt and Tarth wedding beyond the planning of the ceremony.
Relationships: Hyle Hunt/Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Elia Martell, Jaime Lannister & Olenna Tyrell, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 700
Kudos: 964





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Что-то синее](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24039601) by [ms_dorothea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_dorothea/pseuds/ms_dorothea)



> I didn't intend to write anything over the holiday (my projects are for after) but as always when I'm distracted some new plot bunny takes over my brain, so here we go, something light for the holiday :)

Jaime looked at the retreating back of his clients, his office door closing after them, and resisted the urge to bang his head against his desk. Repeatedly. He sighed, deep and heartfelt, and pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache he already saw coming. 

"That bad, huh?"

He opened his eyes, not sure of when he'd closed them, and looked at the door where his business partner was leaning against the doorjamb. She had a mug of coffee in her hands and Jaime made grabby hands in its direction. She handed it to him like the angel she was. "Alyssane has changed dresses, _again_ ," he said, taking the offered drink and gulping the dark brew as if it was a lifesaving elixir, "and now the flowers don't work with her new one."

"Ouch," Elia said, though there was more amusement than sympathy in her voice. "It can't be that bad."

"It's dark blue, the same shade as the flowers and the decor. She has complained she will disappear in the background, and of course, she can't have that." Elia winced. "Alyssane's the one footing the bill; she demands the winter roses are changed for Highgarden whites and won't hear any objection," Jaime said, thinking of the months of careful planning, the long negotiations with the Tyrell family to source that many of the delicate buds out of season, and the colour scheme of the entire circus which now needed to be changed at the eleventh hour. The Hightower wedding was going to be one of the social events of the year, the guest list included everyone who was anyone in Westeros, everything had to be perfect for it. It had been giving him nightmares for the past three months, even without counting the fact that his family, and Elia's, had been invited to the event and they would be forced to interact with them. "I'm adding a thousand dragons to the bill just for that."

Elia laughed, shaking her head. "A thousand?"

"On top of whatever the flowers cost. _I have to call Olenna and beg_." They only had a week until the wedding, the old bat was going to charge them through the nose, not that he cared about that. But she was going to be smug and tell him ' _I told you so_ ' after she had warned him to put the whites in reserve the third time Alyssane Hightower had changed her mind regarding her dress for this nightmarish wedding. 

He should have charged two thousand extra dragons. Each time.

Days like this he missed his old job; it was expected of him to kill people in the military, a wedding planner murdering his clients was frowned upon, or so Elia had to remind him from time to time.

"Speaking of Olenna, you have an appointment in fifteen minutes with the clients she referred."

Jaime groaned. There went his plans for the rest of the day. He had been looking forward to having the afternoon off so he could go to the cinema, there was a new movie about the War of the Five Kings and he had been waiting eagerly for the release. "Hunt and Tarth?" He had seen a note on his calendar, though he hadn't paid too much attention to it, it was supposed to be for after the Hightower mess.

Elia nodded. "It's a bit of a rush order, two months, so I've agreed to move the appointment."

"Fine," he said, resigning himself to waiting another day to watch the movie, though he usually disliked going to the cinema on Saturday. He picked up the phone and dialled the number from memory.

"Good luck!" Elia said on the way out and Jaime waved his prosthetic hand in goodbye while he listened to the dial tone on his phone. "And don't forget you promised Rhaenys you'd take her to the movies this weekend!"

He had forgotten, but luckily Rhaenys loved the same films he did. She would love Clash of Kings.

"I need a thousand whites for next Saturday," he said as soon as the line connected, foregoing any type of greeting. "and you can't say no."

"What makes you think I have that many white roses available in short notice, brat?" Olenna asked, her voice stronger than anyone would imagine a woman her age sounded. 

Jaime gritted his teeth. She was going to be difficult, he knew it. "Of course you have that many, it's the high season and those are your best sellers."

"Are they? I might have sold them all, then." Murder was still not allowed, he reminded himself, and he liked Olenna Tyrell. Most of the time. "But I haven't, because I knew this was going to happen. _I told you_ this was going to happen." Jaime sighed in relief, deflating on his chair, maybe not so difficult after all. She had gone for the told you so straight away, not dragged the conversation for as long as she usually did when she had been right about something. "It's going to cost you, though."

"It's going to cost Alyssane Hightower," Jaime said. It was the truth, he would just put everything in the bill and the woman would pay it. People like the Hightowers never even looked at what they were spending on things like this, especially if the bill was signed by a Lannister, though they would haggle over the smallest and cheapest trinket from a poor or independent seller in the market. Just like his family had always done.

"Alyssane Hightower will pay the bill, but you owe me a favour," Olenna said, and there was the catch. Jaime had known it was too easy, the old bat had not made him beg.

"Is this about the appointment I have in five minutes for a new client I don't really have the time for?"

"You will find you have it," she said, certain that she would get her way. "I want you to take care of them personally after Hightower, I don't trust anyone else with Brienne. No expense spared; anything goes over their budget, you send it to me." This was important to her, and it made Jaime curious about this Brienne. "She's Loras and Marg's closest friend, I want you to treat her as if she was one of mine." He would need to shift another client to Elia, even if she protested, and possibly get Peck and Pia to switch to full time instead of part-time, something he had been considering lately anyway. If that was all Olenna wanted, Jaime had no problems agreeing. "Your order is ready and will arrive in Oldtown by Friday."

She hung up before Jaime had the chance to thank her or saying anything; he put the receiver back in place and downed the last of his coffee, taking a deep breath before his door opened and the most mismatched couple he had ever seen came inside his office. 

Hunt and Tarth, he presumed. 

The man was of average height and weight, wearing the most non-descript attire of dark jeans and t-shirt, and with vaguely pleasant unremarkable features. Jaime imagined he was what the dictionary would describe as average and unmemorable. 

She was everything but. Jaime could see why Olenna didn't trust people with her. The woman towered over her fiancee, at least a foot taller and, Jaime checked, wearing flats. She had striking features though badly arranged, skin paler than the moon with not so much as a scattering of freckles but splodges of them everywhere, she had pudgy pink lips on a wide mouth, wavy pale blond hair brushing wide shoulders and the most arresting blue eyes Jaime had ever seen. She also had long and muscled legs encased in skinny jeans, not much of a waist or breasts, but long and strong arms. She frowned, noticing Jaime's scrutiny, a blotchy pink flush taking over her cheeks, a thunderous expression on her face. 

Jaime gave her his most charming smile and stood from his desk, barely an inch short of her height, and her blush deepened. He wondered how she would look in stilettos, a woman like this could command every room with the right attire and attitude.

"Good afternoon," he greeted them in his most pleasantly professional voice. "Are you Hunt and Tarth?" 

"Hyle Hunt," the man said approaching the desk and taking Jaime's proferred left hand after a confused look at his right one. He grimaced slightly when he saw the prosthetic and squeezed his hand harder than necessary as if asserting dominance. It was an unfortunately usual reaction many men had to Jaime, who didn't fit in the effeminate idea they had constructed for a male wedding planner and was much better looking than most men. It made a certain type of men feel threatened. "She's my fiance, Brienne Tarth."

She took his hand next, the touch delicate. She had rough hands, not the kind he had expected for a woman, and warm. "Nice to meet you," he said, sitting back on his chair. "Please take a seat."

"You're Jaime Lannister," she said, her voice deep and soft. "Sorry, my friend Marg arranged everything for us, but she didn't mention a name."

The name of their company was Golden Sun Weddings, a joke at the expense of both their houses. Jaime and Elia were both too famous in certain circles for the wrong reasons, they liked to use the company name instead of their family ones. It wasn't always possible to hide, though, if she was a friend of the Tyrell, then she knew of them. Some people, like Alyssane Hightower, sought them out because of their names. Other people were repelled by them. 

Jaime wondered which side would Tarth fall on, for the frown on her face he guessed the later.

"I am," he admitted, wondering what of the many reasons people usually objected to him was she going to use. It could be his family, which he hadn't spoken to in years with the exception of his brother. Or the Aerys scandal, which had seen him discharged from the army and on the front page of both tabloids and newspapers. Or Elia, his partner, and her messy and public divorce from that cheating asshole.

Hunt looked between the two of them, frowning. "You know each other?"

"I'm afraid your services are more than we have budgeted for," she continued as if Hunt hadn't spoken. Jaime relaxed, it was money then, and that had an easy solution.

"You don't need to worry about that, Olenna has already taken care of it."

Instead of relaxing, Brienne straightened on her chair and pursed her lips. "Excuse me? _Olenna Tyrell_?" She stood from the chair. "I can't accept--"

Hunt grabbed her hand and pulled until she sat down again, shooting him a disgruntled look. "Is that the old bird who's friends with your dad? She's got plenty of money, and so does your dad, let them pay if they want. I don't know why you insist on paying for everything ourselves."

Well, that explained so many things. This Hyle Hunt didn't look like the kind of man with a big enough personality to be able to show a woman like her proudly on his arm. Brienne Tarth was too much for a man that looked like that; she was too tall and too broad and too pale, and let's face it, too ugly according to the beauty standards. She came from money, though, and that made all the difference. Jaime knew the type, had seen them circling around Tyrion his entire life and could already tell he was going to hate Hyle Hunt.

"Miss Tarth," he said, ignoring him. Olenna had said he needed to treat Brienne like a VIP, she had not mentioned him. "I owe Olenna a favour and she's cashing it in. I have instructions, I won't go over your budget." She still didn't look convinced. "You know how stubborn she is, she's going to get what she wants one way or another, and we won't get any rest until she does." Some of his fondness for her must have come through in his tone because Brienne relaxed again, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"You're right, you do know Olenna. But nothing crazy, I am not a Tyrell."

"Please tell me what you're looking for, it is your wedding after all," Jaime said once she had settled, Hunt's hand still in hers, though she hadn't twined their fingers together. Jaime observed their body language, something he had gotten used to since he became a wedding planner. There was something possessive in the way Hunt's hand was enfolding hers, but it didn't look intimate. There was no squeezing, no eye contact when they touched, no real hand-holding. He was grabbing her hand, had done to catch her attention and hadn't released it after a quick look at Jaime. They were both facing forward, not the slightest leaning towards each other. Jaime had rarely seen a couple that appeared less in love than this one sitting in his office. It might be they weren't demonstrative or given to PDAs, but somehow he didn't think that would be the case.

"We don't want a big wedding," Brienne began, "just a private ceremony in Tarth with friends and family. About fifty guests I think."

"I think more than that, about a hundred," Hunt cut her off, not even looking at her. "We have common friends from Uni, that's where we met," he told Jaime, but nothing followed where normally he would have to listen to smitten babbling of how the lovebirds met.

She turned to look at him then, her brow furrowed. "Hyle, we agreed--"

"They're my friends, Brie, even if you don't like them. You know that." He cut her off again, and Jaime's brows rose up his forehead. He definitely didn't like this guy. 

"You haven't seen them in years," she protested.

"I want them there for my big day," Hunt insisted. Jaime was looking from one to the other; it wasn't strange for a couple to argue about the guest list, but it used to be more along the lines of the drunken uncle or some ex being invited. 

"They are the guys that made my time in uni hell, Hyle, do you want them to ruin the day for me? Because they will." Brienne's face was flushed in anger if Jaime wasn't mistaken, and that was it, he'd had enough. 

This might be Olenna's referral but he'd had a long day, which wasn't finished yet, and still had to sort out many things for the Hightower wedding. He'd have to fly to Oldtown by Thursday the latest to arrange everything there, he didn't have time to waste while these not-quite-lovebirds fought about their guest list.

"Please decide that between the two of you, it's not important right now," he said, drawing their attention back to himself. "I just need to know what general budget you have, the type of venue and decorations and the date we're looking for, and I can have some quotes for you in a couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks? The wedding is in two months!" Hunt protested, put out to have been interrupted in the middle of an argument. 

"Then you should have come earlier. I'm only accepting this job now because of Olenna Tyrell," Jaime said with a shrug. "We normally require at least six months to organize a wedding, especially out of King Landing, we really have no time to take on a new client. You're free to find a different wedding planner if that's what you want."

"That won't be necessary, thank you," Brienne said, sending a quelling look at her fiancee, one that promised they would be having the delayed argument as soon as they were out of Jaime's office.

Jaime didn't know what they saw in each other, they were the most mismatched couple he had ever seen, but he was a firm believer that people didn't get to choose who they loved. These two didn't give that impression, but they might be madly in love for all that it mattered to him; Jaime was a wedding planner not a marriage counsellor. Whether they were a love match or not wasn't his problem, he'd get them a beautiful wedding and leave behind his brother's card for later. Just in case 

Last he'd heard, Tyrion was making a killing as a divorce lawyer.

...


	2. Chapter 2

Jaime pulled at his bowtie wishing he could rip the thing from his neck and be anywhere but there. He usually loathed to dress like a penguin but knew it was required for work when he had to be onsite during a wedding reception, and this time he had to be there. The formal clothes drew too much attention to himself; the bridesmaids, friends of the groom, and other single and married guests usually propositioned him at the most inconvenient times. On one famous occasion, it had been both bride and groom, separately and then together when they got drunk. 

Elia had printed a poster after that one reminding him not to hit clients, at least not before cashing the check.

As much as Jaime hated being hit on, he would smile and bear it if it meant he didn't have to be here. He had arrived in Oldtown three days ago with Pia in tow instead of Elia, and now she was somewhere in the room looking lovely in a pale pink dress, her hair up and a hint of makeup on her face. She was the prettiest person in the wedding if they asked Jaime, at least the most real.

He had not been surprised when Elia had begged off the trip saying Aegon wasn't feeling well, Jaime had half-expected it since the moment they had received the RSVP for Rhaegar's invite and had seen the name of his plus one. Jaime would have paid his weight in gold not to be there as well, had spent the majority of the time skulking in the shadows trying to avoid being recognized by the guests.

Now they were finally in the reception and he was just a couple of hours away from freedom. There had been no major crisis, surprisingly, mainly thanks to Pia who had been invaluable in this trip and had saved Jaime from committing murder when she offered to take Elia's place. Jaime was already calculating what her bonus was going to be if they managed to get away with minimum bloodshed, though if one more person approached his assistant and looked down their noses at her asking where she had found that _quirky dress_ , they wouldn't. Jaime was going to test just how hard his prosthetic could deliver a punch.

"You know, boss, the food is good but I think I prefer less noble weddings," Pia said, materializing by his side with two glasses of dornish red in her hands. She gave one to Jaime, who sipped it gratefully. 

"So do I." 

In the centre of the room, among many impeccably dressed couples, Rhaegar was dancing with Cersei, their blond heads together, her red and gold dress a tacky beacon. She had obviously not gotten the memo regarding not wearing flashier clothes than the bride, and mother of the bride in this case. It explained Alyssane's sour expression. 

Cersei had looked at Jaime disdainfully when she arrived at the reception hanging from Rhaegar's arm, Jaime had stared at them with the same bland smile he used for the rest of the guests and had asked their names to check the list as if they were strangers, knowing she hated nothing more than being ignored.

"How did you guys grow up with these people and turned out normal?" Pia asked wonderingly. Jaime could have protested that neither he nor Elia were normal, she must have not met many normal people if she believed they qualified. 

" _Pure luck_ ," he said instead.

"Don't let him fool you, dear," a new voice intervened, and Jaime's smile became real for the first time in the past days. "He's the furthest from normal a person can get."

Jaime turned to see Olenna Tyrell right beside him. She was next to the tallest man Jaime had seen, barring the Cleganes, and looked almost dwarfed by him. She had a few more wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and her hair had finally gone completely white since the last time they had seen each other face to face, though her eyes were as sharp as always. He looked at her dress and couldn't contain the laugh bursting from his mouth. 

" _You didn't_ ," he said, chuckling. He bent to press a dry kiss to her powdered cheek, the ever-present smell of roses enveloping him for a moment and bringing up memories from another life.

Olenna was wearing the same dress as Alyssane Hightower, though thankfully in a different colour, one that complemented the flowers and the decor much better. How she'd found out which was going to be, Jaime didn't want to know. She had at least twenty years on Alyssane and looked better in the dress, which had obviously been tailored to her. 

That was what Jaime loved about Olenna, nobody did petty like her.

"She's been yanking us around for months with the blasted flowers, what did you expect me to do?" Olenna said, proving that she deserved the title of Queen of Thorns the tabloids had given her ages ago. "You clean up nice, brat. Where's your better half?"

He was tempted to look at the dance floor, years of conditioning still telling him Cersei was his other, better, half. But Olenna wasn't asking about his sister, she just needed to glance at any tabloid to know about her. Instead, he shook his head, "Home, _Aegon got the plague_ , she couldn't leave the kids."

Olenna nodded approvingly. "Smart girl. This pretty lady must be your assistant, then. Pia, is it?"

Pia blushed and smiled. "Lady Tyrell, it's an honour to finally meet you."

"Olenna, please, those titles are the reason all these people walk around as if they have shit stuck to their designer shoes instead of hanging from their arms," she looked pointedly at the middle of the ballroom, where Cersei and Rhaegar kept twirling, ignoring the world around them. "This is my friend Selwyn."

The man took Pia's hand and bent almost double to kiss it, then looked at Jaime and extended his left hand, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. His handshake was firm and his smile genuine. "A pleasure." He was at least ten years younger than Olenna, dark blonde hair silvering in his temples and beard, laugh lines bracketing shockingly blue eyes and a wide mouth. 

Jaime had seen that shade of blue before, he remembered Hunt's comment about Olenna. "You're Selwyn Tarth."

Olenna and Selwyn exchanged a loaded look. "I am, how did you know?"

"I met your daughter last week, you have her eyes," Jaime said without thinking and saw how they glanced at each other again, a whole conversation in just a look. 

"Olenna told me you're the one preparing my child's nuptials." He nodded politely, he hadn't had time to even begin looking at his notes of that meeting. "Tell me, what did you think of them?"

"I haven't had time to look into their request," Jaime said, deliberately choosing to answer the wrong question. There was no polite way to say he had already dubbed them in his head Cunt and Tall, and he had been in the presence of the man no more than an hour. Still, ten minutes in Jaime had already known they should not get married. "But I will as soon as I get back."

"That's not what he asked, brat, and you know it," Olenna said, amused. "But that was all the answer we needed. He's a cunt, isn't he?"

Pia choked on the sip of wine she had just taken, and Jaime took the chance to help his assistant and not have to answer the question. Not that he hadn't answered already it seemed, at least Olenna appeared to believe so. He patted Pia on the back while she tried to regain her breath, several of the people around darting curious looks at them.

"It's bad form to insult your clients, especially the ones recommended to you." And in front of their family he didn't add, his eyes flittering to Selwyn 

Olenna scoffed. "I've heard you call people worse, Jaime. Usually to their faces." 

Selwyn Tarth was looking between the two of them as if watching a very interesting match, but he had said nothing to defend his son-in-law.

"Still, I haven't had time to form an opinion," he insisted. 

He had, he'd formed an opinion of Hunt the moment they shook hands, and the rest of the interview had only reaffirmed it. It was Brienne Tarth the one Jaime couldn't pin down. At first glance, she was an impressive woman but there was a shyness and insecurity in her that made her hunch and listen to the non-entity by her side. During the time they had spent in his office Jaime had seen Hunt push in other two things that seemed to make her uncomfortable, and had wondered why she let him. He had not come with an answer that wasn't ' _love'_ , but wasn't convinced that was the right one.

Olenna stared at him for a moment, then turned to Selwyn and they had another of their silent conversations. Jaime wondered if he and Cersei had been this irritating when they were still on speaking terms and needed only a look to communicate. 

"I haven't danced with a handsome man in a long time," Olenna said after a minute of this, turning to look at Jaime and extending her hand.

"Isn't it normally the man who asks?" He took her arm anyway, next to him Selwyn was offering his hand to Pia and leading her to the dance floor. 

"We're not in the Targaryen era anymore, brat, haven't you heard? Women can do what we want now."

He led her to the centre of the dance floor, ignoring the looks they received. Jaime recalled the lessons in ballroom dancing he had been forced to take as a child, his arms around his sister, both of them of a height and laughing each time they tripped. He forced the memory from his mind, they had been different people then and now he wouldn't want to dance with Cersei. Olenna was smaller than him, Jaime put his left arm on her waist and held her right with his prosthetic; Olenna didn't flinch at all, just stared at him and smiled once he started leading her, muscle memory moving his feet.

"Out with it," he said after a minute of silence. "What did you want to talk to me about?" That was the reason they were dancing, she had wanted to speak to him without Pia listening.

"Selwyn is not listening now, tell me what you really thought about them."

"If you tell me why you sent them to me," Jaime countered, certain now that there was more to it than Brienne being _one of hers._

"You're the best," she said with a smile, like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Jaime had seen that same smile when she was negotiating with Tywin and managed to put one over him. "I wouldn't send her to anyone else."

"Don't bullshit me, Olenna. We've known each other for too long. What's the real reason."

"Fine." She stared at him for a long heartbeat, considering. "I want you to break them up."

" _What_?" He must have misheard that.

"You've seen them together, do you think they are in love?" He hadn't, but Jaime admitted he wasn't an expert in love; he had never been in love and apart from a few short, unsatisfactory dalliances when he was younger and still cared for his family's opinion, he'd never been in a relationship either. He hadn't even cared for sex much then. Everything he knew came from his frequent contact with couples about to marry, and he could admit they had not fit the type. "He only cares about Selwyn's money and makes no secret of it." Another couple bumped into them and Jaime realized he had stopped in the middle of the dance floor, frozen in shock. He started moving again, ignoring the puzzled and curious looks they were getting. 

"She's an adult, it's her choice."

"That man is not a choice."

"You just said it, this is not the Targaryen era, nobody is obligated to get married anymore. It is her choice." Poor as it was.

"Is it? Because we might not sell woman like cattle anymore, at least in this part of the world, but there are things we still teach them they _have to do_. Not men, of course, but the constant battering about family and ticking clocks aimed at women have forced too many into awful marriages because it was their duty."

He knew she was right, had heard the same several times from Elia, who had confessed to him she had never wanted to marry, Rhaegar or anyone else, but her entire family had pressured her to the advantageous match. She loved her children, but had sworn off dating and men the moment she was divorced, and was much happier for it. Nobody seemed to care she remained single since she had already produced offspring, Brienne Tarth didn't have that luck.

"That poor child has been humiliated and berated for her looks her entire life," Olenna continued, her voice harsh. "Her nanny was a nasty piece of work growing up, by the time Selwyn realized what she was doing and fired her she had already convinced Brienne nobody could ever love someone as ugly as she, that the only thing she had to offer was her father's money, and that she'd be lucky if any man wanted her even with it." Jaime wanted to be surprised but found he couldn't, not when he'd seen how people treated his brother, who had ended up married to someone who only wanted his Lannister money. There was a reason he had become a divorce lawyer. "Things got worse in college, though I never got the full story there was a group of boys who liked to follow her an insult her and make her life impossible, she was smart and good at sports and ugly. They never forgave her for it." Hunt's friends, the ones he wanted in the wedding and she didn't, Jaime would bet anything. "Loras hated Hyle since they started dating but none of us have been able to convince her she deserves better."

"And how do you suggest I do that where you and her father failed? I'm just the wedding planner, I get paid when people get married."

"Lucky we both know you don't work for money." The music stopped and they walked out of the dancefloor, Olenna turning towards the little balcony overlooking the gardens. It was already night and the moon was high in the sky, a chill in the air. There was nobody else there. "I know she's ugly--"

Jaime thought about the woman he had met; tall and broad, with exaggerated features and astonishing eyes, and the longest legs he had ever seen. "People are cunts, we know that. She's no beauty, you're right, but with those eyes and those legs she can be imposing," he remembered wondering how she would look in high heels, a head taller than everyone else. "If she stops hunching at least."

Olenna was smiling smugly at him. "I knew I was sending her to the right place."

Jaime narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you planning? What do you think I can do?"

"Be yourself, that's all you have to do," Olenna said with that same infuriating smile. "Be your irritating, charming self and treat that girl the way I've seen you treating Pia, and Elia, and every other person you meet. Show that girl that she can be treated with respect, even by an attractive man, and she doesn't have to settle for that cunt. Nothing else will be necessary, just be yourself. I have an intuition about these things, and you already like her."

"You are a meddlesome old hag."

Olenna gave him a brilliant smile, knowing she had won this round. Jaime could, of course, do the opposite of what she wanted and act like an asshole, proving Brienne right that she didn't deserve anything better. He remembered Tyrion, and his disappointed face when Shae had been easily bought by their father, who had deeper pockets and hated his own son. He thought about the argument they had over the guest list and how Hunt had said _my big day_ , as if wasn't her wedding too, and how he'd thought they were a couple to send to his brother.

He offered his arm to Olenna who took it and they walked back to the room, where Selwyn and Pia had moved away from the dancefloor as well and were sitting in one of the tables in the corner, chatting animatedly. Selwyn saw them and waved, his smile widening at what Olenna's expression told him.

"This is going to backfire on all of us."

"Come on, brat, what's the worst that can happen?"

...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So can we say I don't like Hyle Hunt at all? I mean, he's not exactly the peak of romance when his wooing of Brienne in the books is "I'm alive and my cock works" and "all women are the same in the dark".  
> We're going to see a bit more of him here from Brienne POV

Hyle was sitting on the couch with the remote and a beer when Brienne got back home, stressed and sweaty after a long day at work and the unpleasantness of rush hour in the tube. She took one look at him, wearing a rumpled suit and with his tie undone, legs splayed before him while he lazily changed channels in the TV, and felt a surge of the usual irritation within herself. 

Brienne took a deep breath and dropped her bag on top of the table. 

"Hyle, you were supposed to be ready to go as soon as I got home," she said, trying to keep the harshness from her voice to avoid another fight, they already had too many lately. "We're going to be late."

He looked at her then. "I'm ready," he said, then took a drink from his beer and changed the channel again. "I was just waiting for you. Besides, they've taken two weeks to get back to us, I don't see why we need to rush to see them. They can wait ten minutes for us, that's why we pay them."

She bit her tongue on the retort that wanted to come out because no, that wasn't why they were paying them. They could not pay them, in fact, Brienne had been close to standing up and leaving the moment she had recognized Jaime Lannister the day they went for the initial consultation, had only stayed because she didn't want another lecture from Olenna and her dad. 

Jaime Lannister had not been difficult to recognise, even after staying away from the public's eye for some years. It was his twin sister who grazed the covers of magazines regularly, and they both had the same piercing green eyes and long wavy golden hair, they had the same fortunate bone structure that had her named most beautiful woman in Westeros for several years running. He would have been named also most beautiful with his long hair and silvering beard, the crow's feet on the corners of his eyes giving him character, if he hadn't chosen to step away from the limelight and his family. Brienne had been shocked at his blatant checking look, had expected to see the usual derision but it had only been directed to Hyle, not her. 

She had not been surprised to know they'd need to wait but of course, Hyle expected to get special treatment, he always did, as if the world would bend to his will if he waved around their money, not something that was going to work with a Lannister.

"I don't like being late, it's rude," she insisted, swapping her heels for sensible flats, a habit she had developed so she didn't have to hear Hyle grumbling when they went out together. He had not moved from the couch when Brienne came back and she clenched her jaw and mentally counted to ten. "I can always cancel the appointment."

Hyle switched the TV off and stood up as if making a great effort for her. Brienne was very tempted to remind him it had been him who proposed, and it had been him who insisted on a ceremony in Tarth with their family and friends while she was happy just going to the registry. It was him who wanted to show off her wealth and her relations to some of the most influential people of Westeros, she knew. He wasn't showing her off, Brienne the Beauty, who looked more like a man than a woman and towered over him, but he was showing off.

He did love her in his own way, she knew that or she would never have agreed to marry him, though he might not if she were poor on top of being ugly. 

"I don't like that Jaime Lannister," Hyle said on their way out, holding the door for Brienne. "Acting as if he's doing us a favour just doing his job, we should have left him there and gone somewhere else. Besides, isn't he the one who got kicked from the military for being gay? He must be. _Wedding planner_ , what man would spend that much time with flowers and girls and dresses otherwise?"

"Nobody's dismissed for that anymore, Hyle, we're not in the Targaryen era. You should try leaving your prejudices there as well," she said, sharply. 

Hyle rolled his eyes. "You know it's a joke, I have nothing against gay people. If all pretty boys like Renly and that Lannister are gay, then less competition for me." He shot her what should have been a charming grin but Brienne was already annoyed with him, the smile she returned was more a grimace than anything else. "Joking, joking. I'm taken. Anyway, my point is, I don't like him."

The feeling had been mutual if the way Lannister had looked at him every time he said something was any indication. 

"He was dismissed from the military for killing his CO, Aerys Targaryen," Brienne pointed out. It had been all over the news for a hot minute, and then it had been violently suppressed by Tywin Lannister and his piles of money and nobody heard anything about Jaime Lannister until his car accident six months later. 

Hyle turned to her while they waited for the tube, his brows so high up his forehead they disappeared under his short fringe. "So he's a murderer instead of a--" he trailed off with an eye-roll at Brienne's look. " _That's so much better._ "

She didn't know if murderer was the right word either. 

It had been some years ago, Brienne had been on break from college in Highgarden and her father had joined her there, using her presence there as an excuse. She remembered Olenna's disapproving frown when Jaime Lannister's case had been settled before making it to the courtroom, a dishonourable discharge the only punishment handed to him. They had all thought his going free was what she hated, her rivalry with Tywin and her disdain for his methods were legendary. Then Renly had made a comment about Lannisters and Olenna had pursed her lips tighter. 

"This has Tywin's fingerprints all over but it's not for his son's benefit he's done it," she had said, her voice harsh like Brienne had not heard before. "I know the boy and he's many things, but he's not a cold blood killer. There must have been a reason, one they are only too happy to keep hushed, he wasn't known as Mad Aerys for nothing. In a trial, the truth would have to come out, and I'm sure many people would have ended looking not so good out of it. Tywin saw the chance to get many people indebted to him and his heir back under his thumb, and took it." Olenna had gotten up from her chair and grabbed her mobile. "Excuse me, I have to make a call."

Brienne glanced and Hyle and decided to let the conversation drop, he wouldn't be interested in that kind of detail, not if he'd made his mind already about Lannister. 

They made the rest of the way to Golden Sun offices in silence, Hyle playing on his mobile while Brienne made some notes for the follow up to Clash of Kings novel on hers. She had been the one most surprised when her book had been published a couple of years back; Brienne was a history teacher in King's Landing University, the book had only come into existence because there were so many inaccuracies regarding the War of the Five Kings in most 'approved' texts she had been unable to stop herself. It had been little more than a hobby, something to pass the time the evenings Hyle was out with his friends and Brienne didn't feel like going anywhere. 

It had grown into a book without her even realizing, and later Loras had been the one to send it to a publishing house. 

She had not known until they called her, still remembered the shock she had felt to be offered money, little as it had been at the time, for something she considered a hobby. Hyle had been almost more excited than she was; they had recently moved together and that night they had celebrated with a dinner in her favourite Pentoshi restaurant. Hyle had been charming that night, attentive, and Brienne had been blindsided when he had proposed. 

"Who would have thought I would marry a famous novelist," Hyle had said, raising a glass of the champagne he had ordered, his smile widening at Brienne's startled look. "If you would marry me, of course."

It hadn't been the most romantic of proposals, but Brienne wasn't the most romantic of women. She had learned not to be after the hell that had been her high school and college days. She had also learned not to want, and by that time she had made it a point not to want to get married, to be content with what she had which was more than she had always believed she would get. But Hyle had suddenly proposed to her, and though Brienne had had her doubts before whether their relationship was made to last, she had been a bit drunk on success and champagne and had accepted. 

The doubts had returned, occasionally, during the following year, the ring heavy in her finger but still they had not set the date. They still had not set it when she got a call from a producer interested in buying her book, or when she got a contract for another two novels from the Targaryen restoration, or when she got the first check for the book, which had been a word of mouth surprising success. They set the date six months ago, the night they celebrated a new deal for two more movies out of her future books, she had thought it was too soon to celebrate, but Hyle had been insistent and she had let herself be carried away. Now they were getting married in a few weeks and nothing had been done since they set the date, the doubts were coming back to the surface. 

It had to be nerves, Brienne kept telling herself, all brides got anxious and had doubts this close to the wedding. She was certain of it. They arrived in the offices and Brienne put away her mobile and any doubts she might still have. 

This was happening, they were getting married. 

They were received by a pretty woman with a sweet smile who ushered them immediately to Lannister's office, the same one they had been in before. He was in his office, only this time he wasn't sitting at his desk but leaning against it while talking animatedly with another beautiful woman, the kind men like Jaime Lannister seemed to always be surrounded by, this one with obvious Dornish features and colouring. 

Brienne had known he was tall but it wasn't the same seeing him standing to his full height, he couldn't be more than an inch shorter than her and was almost as broad. He didn't have her broad and unsightly features, instead, he had sharp features and a defined jawline covered by a silvering beard, and bright green eyes. Next to him, the woman looked diminutive and delicate, with stunning dark eyes and long back hair, a lively smile on her face. She was pretty and feminine and the complete opposite from Brienne.

"Of course I know, but what do you want me to do about it, be an asshole?"

"You are always an asshole, Jaime," the woman said, the smile on her face teasing and fond. 

"You wouldn't want me any other way." They turned when the receptionist cleared her throat; they had obviously been engrossed in their conversation and not realized they were there. "Mr Hunt, Ms Tarth, you're just in time," he said smoothly, a polite smile replacing the wide grin he had before. He acted as if they had just been waiting for them instead of in the middle of a personal conversation. Brienne had to admire his aplomb, she would have been blushing if she was caught like that by a client. "Let me introduce you to my partner, Elia Martell." He turned to the receptionist. "And this is Pia, my assistant, if you need anything and I am not available, don't hesitate to ask them, we all work very closely together."

"I bet you do," Hyle said under his breath, giving both women an appreciative look that made Brienne clench her jaw. 

Lannister also heard it, he didn't say anything, though, just stared at Hyle for a moment too long and then turned to Brienne. "Ms Tarth--"

"Brienne, please."

He nodded and signalled for them to take seats while Elia and Pia left quietly. "Brienne, call me Jaime. We met your father last weekend at the Hightower wedding, he left an impression on Pia. Apparently, he's a great dancer." He said with a grin that looked a lot more real than before. 

Selwyn had that effect on people. "He had mentioned he was going to Oldtown, I forgot about the wedding."

"I wish I could," Jaime said with a heartfelt sigh. Brienne smiled at him almost reluctantly; she had seen photos and videos of the wedding in passing, it had been the kind of circus she would have avoided like the plague. "Thankfully it's done, and now--"

"Now you can focus on our wedding, right?" Hyle interrupted snidely calling their attention to him, Brienne bit down on a groan at his rudeness. "We're not VIP, but we're paying customers."

It was the wrong thing to say, it was obvious in the way Jaime narrowed his eyes at Hyle. Brienne thought for a moment he was going to say something, maybe tell them to leave, but he just picked up two folders from his desk and handed them to Brienne and Hyle. 

"This is what we put together with the information you provided on the original consultation. I've narrowed down the list of venues in Tarth to three, considering availability and capacity. Once you approve each of the options, I can start making arrangements." Brienne was staring stunned at the very comprehensive dossier, there were several options for everything; venues, menus, photo options, and flower arrangements. And different colour schemes though it all looked very tasteful and understated, the kind she would have chosen herself. There was a note in a corner about sapphires that made her think about her mother's necklace and whether her father sill had it. Then she saw the number at the bottom of the page and almost choked. Jaime was still talking, a knowing look on his face when he saw Brienne's bug-eyed expression, but he was polite enough not to mention it. "I will need to visit Tarth, of course, at least twice to check location and lighting, your father has kindly offered to show me around your favourite spots for the wedding photos."

"That's all fine, but what's the price for this?" Hyle asked because he just couldn't help himself. She tapped the number on the bottom of the dossier and Hyle's head snapped up, scowling. "You're joking."

"That is the total cost, including our fee, _for paying customers_ ," Jaime said, his tone level. "Lucky for you, Olenna has waived her fee and so have I at her request. She also requested the VIP treatment for Brienne, which is the reason you have that dossier in your hand right now."

Hyle made to stand from his chair and Brienne grabbed his wrist, this time it was her who kept him there. She shot him a look and he closed the folder and leaned back in his chair. If Brienne hadn't grabbed him, he would have crossed his arms over his chest.

"When did you have the time to assemble this?" Brienne asked in the silence that had fallen, Jaime turned his eyes to her and recalled his previous polite smile. 

"Eli did most of it while I was busy, and I had a chance to do some research on the flights. I haven't been to Tarth yet, but I'm looking forward to it. Now, do you have any preference?" Brienne looked at Hyle who refused to look at her, they were going to have a fight about this, she already knew. Jaime seemed to know as well. "If you prefer to have more time to look at it, do you want another appointment for tomorrow? Unfortunately, time is a bit tight so I'll need an answer as soon as possible."

"I have a fitting for my dress tomorrow, the day after?" 

"You can call if you prefer with your options," he handed her a card and she saw it had his mobile number in it. "If not, I'll see you in two days at this same time. Brienne, Mr Hunt." He stood up and extended his hand, Brienne took it without hesitation. Hyle shook it briefly and moved to the door like a petulant child. 

The outer door had barely closed after them when Hyle snapped. "What the hell was that?"

"That's exactly my question, Hyle," she said, grabbing his arm again and stopping him. "What the hell was that? Paying customers? You know we can't pay them, and you know they took us as clients because of Olenna. Why the hell did you have to act like that, we're lucky Jaime didn't ask us to leave."

Hyle narrowed his eyes at her. "He's Jaime now?"

"He asked me to use his name, it's called being polite."

"He was flirting with you," Hyle insisted. Brienne was about to laugh, the mere idea was ridiculous. Jaime Lannister flirting with Brienne, they had met his partner, what man would look at Brienne when they already had Elia Martell. 

" _Flirting_ ," she said, slowly. " _With me_." She waited for a moment until the words sank in. "First he's gay, then he's flirting with me. You don't like him for your own reasons, and you have been rude to him. Not just today, you also were the other time. If you don't want to, we don't have to go back. I'll call him and thank him for his time and we can get married in the City Hall, just sign the certificate and go for a nice dinner with our closest people, no ceremony."

It was what she had wanted from the beginning, and it was he who insisted on a ceremony, though he had done nothing until Marg sent them to Golden Sun. Brienne at least had her dress almost ready. 

"No, he said he'll do it for free, he won't get rid of us now." Hyle shook his arm from Brienne's grip and they started walking again. "But you can be the one dealing with that arrogant pretty boy, I can't be coming here every two days, I have things to do."

"Fine."

She wondered again if it wouldn't be easier to just cancel the wedding like she was tempted to, but she knew men weren't lining up to marry her, and though she hated herself sometimes for it and advocated for independence, she really wanted to marry and have kids. It might be that Hyle wasn't the right person, but he was the only one who had wanted her.

As soon as they were in the tube, she opened her mobile and lost herself in the world of the Targaryen restoration.

…


	4. Chapter 4

"I think you should leave the hem a bit longer and go for the white and silver pumps," Margaery said taking a dainty sip from her champagne flute, her lithe form draped over the couch like one of the heroines in those inaccurate period romances she liked so much. By her side a pair of the most exquisite shoes she had seen tempted Brienne, who was wearing cute but boring kitten heels. 

"I would look like a giraffe next to Hyle," Brienne said, trying to stay as still as possible while the seamstress attacked the hem of her dress with pins. "I already have almost a head on him with these ones."

"Get a taller groom then," Marg said teasingly, "or put him in platforms so he can reach you."

The image of Hyle on heels and wearing a dress popped into Brienne's mind unbidden, and she almost laughed out loud at the incongruity of it. As if Hyle would ever do something like that. He had sometimes outdated ideas of masculinity and sexuality, as his comments the day before had proven, and didn't have the kind of sense of humour to walk around in drag.

"It doesn't cost me anything to wear these ones, Marg," she said with a last mournful look at the heels that her friend didn't miss. Margaery didn't call her our on the lie, though, and let the subject drop. 

Brienne was grateful for that, she wasn't ready to go another round of defending Hyle and her choices. And she would be defending him; after the tense evening they had the previous day, Hyle had woken her up in the morning with kisses and an apology. 

"I'm sorry I was an ass yesterday," he had said, kissing her shoulder and nuzzling against her neck. "I was jealous."

"Of Jaime Lannister?" Brienne had asked, incredulous.

"The way he looked at you the first day--" he had trailed off and Brienne had remembered the once over Jaime had given her. She had believed some disgust or comment would follow it, but it hadn't. "I don't like it."

"You don't have a reason to be jealous, not because of me." 

He was, admittedly, the most beautiful man Brienne had seen but she wasn't interested in those things, not when she looked the way she did. No man who looked like that would care for her attention, and she was taken. 

She had almost been late for work after that, but it had been worth it. She had met with Marg after work and come to the boutique feeling more confident about the wedding, and in a better mood to subject herself to the ordeal of measurements and disapproving noises and pins while standing on a block.

"Your loss then," Marg said with a shrug and a plainly fake nonchalance. "If you don't want these sinful shoes, I'll take them and change my dress accordingly."

Brienne was about to reply when a raised voice from one of the other private rooms reached her. She startled for a moment, the voice familiar enough that she should know it, though she couldn't place it. It was a masculine voice, and it sounded annoyed and very close to the door separating the rooms.

"Ms Glover, I'm sorry but when you said you needed my presence here I assumed it was some kind of emergency Elia couldn't attend to." Jaime Lannister, Brienne realized. She exchanged a look with Margaery, who was staring at her wide-eyed, her lips pressed together to keep from laughing. There was an indistinct female voice from the other room and then Jaime spoke again. "No, I won't help you choose your lingerie, please put on some clothes and call the assistant, or if you prefer, I'll call your fiance. He will be happy to help you." More indistinct voices and when he spoke next, Jaime sounded like he was speaking through a clenched jaw. "I'm leaving now, Elia and Pia will be in charge of the rest of preparations for your wedding."

The door connecting the rooms opened and Jaime Lannister practically fell inside their room in his haste to leave. He didn't look at Brienne, who was practically frozen on top of her block, or Marg who was shaking with silent laughter. Instead, he closed the door gently, carefully enough Brienne knew he wanted to slam it repeatedly against the frame and was being overly cautious to force himself to regain some calm. He took his mobile out without lifting his head and pressed it against his ear, then he turned and leaned against the door, his eyes closed.

"Eli, add 200 hundred gold dragons to the Malley-Glover bill. Code 127." Brienne knew they had to make their presence known, but she was too stunned to react and Margaery was too interested. "Of course I want to add it, she just threw herself at me, _naked_. Need I remind you it was your idea because, and I quote, ' _you can't go around punching clients, Jaime_ '. Stop laughing and add the damned charge to the bill. No, I--" he opened his eyes and looked straight at Brienne, his face draining of what little colour there was. "I have to go, I'll see you in a bit." They stared at each other in silence for a heartbeat, then Jaime sighed and pushed away from the door, a chagrined turn to his mouth. " _Miss Tarth_." The aplomb she had noticed in his office returned to him and he straightened, turning his grimace into an embarrassed smile. "Can I ask that you forget the last minute? And forgive me for barging into your dressing room, I seem to have taken the wrong escape route." 

"I--" she began, still speechless. Was women throwing themselves at him a normal occurrence? 

"Hello, Jaime," Marg said, saving Brienne from having to say anything. Jaime turned to look at her, a faint frown on his face which cleared when he recognized her.

"Margaery Tyrell? It's been years."

Margaery stood from the couch and approached him with a wide smile. "It has, I was still in High School when you came to Highgarden the last time." She leaned up and he obligingly leaned down to kiss her cheek. Marg then lifted her hand to touch the silvering hair in his temples, her smile turning flirtatious. "You've gone grey. _It suits you_." He took a minute step back, clearly uncomfortable, and Marg let her hand drop immediately and sat back on the couch, picking up her glass again. A mischievous glint entered her eyes and Brienne feared what would be the next thing out of her mouth. "Since you're already here, tell us what's your opinion of her dress. Your _professional_ opinion," she stressed, as if he would have any other kind. 

Jaime turned back to Brienne and looked at her intently for a moment, his eyes raking over her form. Brienne glared at Margaery, who smiled innocently at her and leaned back. Her entire face flushing, Brienne forced herself not to squirm and steeled herself for whatever he was going to say. 

"It suits you, though it's a bit conservative," he said after a moment's consideration. "it's a good choice with your height and body type, and with your colouring." The dress was an ivory satin with a cowl neck and a mermaid skirt, it was simple and Brienne had liked it the moment she had seen it. "It shows your arms and shoulders nicely," he continued and Brienne's blush deepened, though it hadn't sounded like a criticism, the opposite in fact. "If you don't mind me saying, with your legs I would have gone for either a pantsuit or a slitted skirt, but this one works as well. I would add something blue, to go with your eyes. The shoes are perfect, though, and they will add to your height nicely." He added with a small tilt of his head towards where the pumps were next to Margaery. 

Brienne didn't get a chance to correct him about the shoes or to say anything at all, Jaime's mobile started ringing loudly in the room and he scowled at the screen. 

"Sorry, I need to take this and get shouted at by a disgruntled client." 

He left as quickly as he had come, Brienne still flushing a deep red and reeling from his words. The entire scene had lasted less than five minutes and it had an air of irreality, almost like a strange dream. Jaime had not just been blandly polite, what his job would require him to be, but had complimented her. And not even a backhanded one. That never happened to Brienne.

She looked at Marg, who had a triumphant smile on her face. "Well then, Grandma was right," she said, confusing Brienne further. "And I was right about the shoes."

Brienne didn't mention the encounter to Hyle that night, the shoes already hidden in the back of her wardrobe when he arrived home from work.

…

The queue for popcorn and drinks was the worst part of going to the movies, but it was one of the few indulgences Brienne allowed herself and she didn't go to the cinema often enough to want to deny herself. Around her, the other lines for refreshment were longer than hers and she checked the time until the movie started, relieved to find she had plenty of time. 

It was her second time watching Clash of Kings, and she was almost as excited as the previous time. She had gone with Hyle the day it premiered, he had agreed to go with her though it wasn't his type of movie, and Brienne had been unable to stop smiling the entire time, a sense of pride and accomplishment swelling in her seeing something she had written on the screen.

She had not asked him to come for a rewatch, she liked to go to the cinema on her own when Hyle was out with his friends from work, like today; their taste in movies was too different for them to enjoy going together, she would rather watch the movie in peace than listen to Hyle complain about all the things he didn't like. 

"If you want any gummy dragons you should get them now," the person right behind her said, bringing her out of her musings and Brienne startled at the voice.

Jaime Lannister, again. 

What were the odds? She kept bumping into him in the most unexpected places. Brienne was supposed to have gone to his office two day ago to give him their selection but she had decided to call and, when his assistant Pia had picked up the call, had given her all the details, apologizing for not making their appointment because of work and grateful she didn't have to talk to him either, though she didn't know why she felt like that.

"Brienne?" She turned around and yes, there was Jaime Lannister standing right behind her. He wasn't alone, though, he had a boy who couldn't be older than four or five by his side. 

"Mr Lannister," she said, feeling uncomfortable and defaulting to politeness.

"Jaime, please," he asked her again. The boy was looking at her with wide eyes, and he pulled on Jaime's hand insistently until he looked down at him. "Yes, Aegon?"

"She's taller than you!" The boy, Aegon, said with the wonder and lack of malice small children possessed, his dark eyes almost sparkling.

Brienne couldn't help the flush on her face, though. She was wearing her favourite boots, a heeled pair Marg had bought as a present a couple of years back which were almost new, considering she barely had a chance to wear them and she was a few inches taller than Jaime, who wasn't a short man by any standards.

"She is, isn't she?" Jaime said with a smile and an appreciative glance at Brienne. "Nice boots." 

Brienne felt her face heating more and opened her mouth to reply, though she didn't know what to say, when another child careened into Jaime. A girl around nine or ten, obviously the boy's sister, practically crashed against his side, her arms full of bags of sweets. Both children had the same dark eyes and hair as Jaime's partner, Elia, and the girl also had some of her features. 

"Jaime, they don't have chocolate aurochs!" She said in the tone Brienne imagined the maesters used to speak about the Fall of the Wall.

"Did you get the dragons? The mallow wildings? The dragon eggs?" The girl nodded in response to each question. "And that is not enough?" She looked at him with betrayed eyes and Jaime rolled his. "You'll survive, we'll get you extra sweet popcorn in case that's not enough of a sugar rush." He turned his attention to Brienne again. "Sorry about that, they are only allowed that much sugar when we come to the movies and they're greedy. These are Rhaenys and Aegon. This is Brienne, a customer and a friend of Olenna."

Rhaenys looked properly at Brienne and her expression mirrored her brother's a minute previously. "Nice to meet you," Brienne said with a smile, it was impossible not to smile at children. She looked around expecting to see Elia as well. "Is your partner--?

"Eli's at home, I think, enjoying some time for herself without these two underfoot," Jaime said with a teasing smile directed to the girl who just ignored him and rolled her eyes in a gesture she had obviously copied from him. 

Brienne turned to Rhaenys then, feeling uncomfortable at the way Jaime smiled talking about his partner. She was jealous, she didn't think Hyle had ever sounded that affectionate talking about her. "Which movie are you watching? The Queen Beyond the Wall?" That was the animation one showing now is she wasn't mistaken.

"Clash of Kings," Rhaenys said, pointing at the poster behind Brienne. 

"We want the Knights!" Aegon said, making exaggerated motions with his arms to represent sword fighting, Brienne assumed.

"Oh, I'm watching that one as well."

"We watched it the week before," Rhaenys informed her with all the seriousness of someone imparting a secret, "but Jaime is a nerd and wanted to watch it again."

Brienne snorted and darted a quick look at Jaime, there was a light blush staining his cheeks but the way he was looking at the girl was pure fondness. Brienne felt a stab of longing for her father this time, the one person who looked at her with that expression, she hadn't seen him in too long. Maybe she should visit Tarth before the wedding, they had some things to check for the ceremony over there, it would be the perfect excuse for a weekend away with Hyle. 

"I have also watched it before," Brienne said, not mentioning that she had also written it. "Who's your favourite?"

"The Blue Knight!" Rhaenys said immediately, unsurprisingly. The Lady Knight had been Brienne's favourite as well, based on the first female Knight in the Kingdoms.

"Mine too."

"You're as tall as the Blue Knight!" she turned to look at Jaime. "Can I be as tall as them?"

"If you are very, very lucky," he said, surprising Brienne, men didn't usually want women to be taller than them. "The Blue Knight is my favourite too."

"I would have thought you'd like the White Brothers." It was what most men, the ones who reviewed and sent mail usually liked. 

"No, I like the Blue Knight, she's got honour."

Brienne was going to mention they would see a lot more of the Blue Knight on the next one when her turn was called. "That's me, enjoy the movie." She got her popcorn and drink and moved inside the screen to sit at the back, where her height wouldn't bother anyone. 

She saw Jaime entering the screen with his hands full of popcorn while herding his children into their seats, his voice and gestures transmitting the way he felt for them. This was what she had always wanted, she realized, a man that looked at her and talked about her the way Jaime Lannister did about his family, someone who doted on his children the way her father had doted on her. 

She had hoped for that man to be Hyle, but again she wasn't sure.

They had spoken about having children, and while Hyle was in favour of them, Brienne couldn't see him taking them for an afternoon out to give her a respite. Or teasing them while indulging their every whim. When he conversation had come he had always assumed Brienne would take time off work to care for the children, or they would hire a nanny for them. Hyle was oldfashioned about some things, and Brienne could understand that but she tried to remember him with that kind of expression on his face while talking about her or feeling that way talking about him, and her gut clenched when she realized she couldn't. 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is curious, the dress would be something like  [ this one ](https://www.jjshouse.co.uk/Trumpet-Mermaid-Cowl-Neck-Court-Train-Charmeuse-Wedding-Dress-With-Ruffle-Lace-Beading-Sequins-002056232-g56232/?utm_term=56232&utm_size=06&ggsub=pl&ggntk=g&ggcid=272380953585&ggkey=&ggpos=1o1&ggdev=c&ggdevm=&ggplm=&ggtgt=&gclid=CjwKCAiA3uDwBRBFEiwA1VsajJbgGBhmWsQ5neem-p71jzYoCwr-C1xdX0UKUxePVkwXMx5rhlMvihoCmJ8QAvD_BwE) and the shoes would be  [ these ones ](https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/christian-louboutin-top-vague-crystal-embellished-leather-pump/3904746/lite)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay with this chapter, that's what happens when I start a fic without really planning where I'm going with it. So I knew the beginning and the end, but not much else. I have finally figured it out, kind of, so hopefully, I won't get stuck on the next chapter like this one.

It was Rhaenys' idea to wait for Brienne when the movie finished, fascinated as she had been with the chance to gush over the Blue Knight with another girl, but to be completely honest Jaime didn't mind at all, especially when he had turned back and had seen her distinctive pale blond head at the back of the theatre, sitting alone with her popcorn. He'd been unable to keep from rolling his eyes then, unsurprised and somewhat glad; Jaime rarely said no to Rhaenys' whims, but he would have found a reason if Cunt was there. Bad enough he had to suffer his assholery; Cunt was a client, paying or not, but Jaime was not subjecting the kids to that man.

He had returned from Oldtown second-guessing his involvement in this wedding; regardless of what Olenna said, and away from the force of nature the old bat was, Jaime didn't think it was for them to intervene. Brienne Tarth had chosen to marry Cunt, she must have her reasons. He had even mentioned it to Elia, wondering if she shouldn't take the lead on the planning, while they compiled the initial dossiers for them to check. He'd had doubts right until the moment they had come into his office, Cunt's eyes raking over Pia and Elia in a way that made Jaime want to block them from his sight, and that with his fiancee next to him. Brienne had noticed, her expression freezing for an instant. That had been the least of his transgressions and the consultation had lasted less than ten minutes, by the time they had left Jaime was certain he was, in fact, the perfect man for this.

He should stop thinking of him as Cunt, though, lest he said that out loud to his fiancee. 

She looked at them with a puzzled frown when she stepped onto the lobby and saw them clearly waiting for her; maybe this hadn't been the best decision. It wasn't as if they were friends, it suddenly felt as creepy as the women who threw themselves at him, though he was at least fully clothed and had no designs on her further than having a chat. 

Rhaenys took a step forward before Jaime had the chance to say anything and approached her. "We're going for ice cream, want to come with us?" she asked, practically bouncing up and down with the sugar rush. Jaime wondered at the wisdom of letting her have more, Elia was going to murder him when he returned the little balls of energy that had been her children. "Jaime always buys us ice cream after movies, did you like the movie again? The Blue Knight was great, wasn't she? Do you know how to fight? I want to learn and mom says I can this year. Do you like ice cream?"

Brienne was looking overwhelmed and a bit trapped, especially when Rhaenys went to her and tried to grab her hand. She definitely had had too much sugar and too little self-consciousness. 

"Rhaenys," Jaime said and she stopped, looking back at him with a pout. "Let her answer your first question before you fire another ten." He looked at Brienne's flushed face and big eyes, an expression that reminded him when he had stumbled into her dressing room the other day, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, you don't have to come if you'd rather not or have other plans. Rhaenys can get too excited after three bags of sweets." Aegon pulled at his hand, just in case he had forgotten he was there. "And so does her brother."

She looked at them for a second, then slowly nodded. "I was just going home, I can have ice cream first." She extended her hand, a blotchy flush to her face, and Rhaenys ran to grab it. 

They found a small table at the back of their favourite gelateria and Jaime ordered two small cups for the kids and two large sorbets for the adults. "We're adults, we're bigger, we eat more," he replied when Aegon complained his was smaller, Brienne snorted picking up her spoon and trying hers, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure when she did. "Good, right?"

She nodded, a tiny moan her only response while she ate. Jaime ignored the flash of heat in his gut at the sound and started on his own.

Rhaenys had not stopped asking her questions all the way to the gelateria, had even let her reply one each three, and the stream only slowed down the time it took her to inhale her ice cream, directing puppy eyes at Jaime so he would share his. He pulled his cup away from her with a pointed look and Rhaenys turned her pleading eyes to Brienne. 

Jaime let them to it, dividing his attention between their conversation and keeping Aegon from wearing his ice cream all over his face and jumper.

"--and Jaime says they are making another movie with the Blue Knight!"

"I said they are writing another book," Jaime said, he had been very excited about it, Elia had rolled her eyes indulgently and called him nerd, clearly where Rhaenys had picked up that word. She had not been so excited though; as much as she loved the Blue Knight, getting her to read books was an uphill battle. "I don't know about the movie." 

She ignored him like she did when he spoke of things she didn't like and turned her attention back to Brienne. "Books are boring, I want another Blue Knight movie. You think we'll have one next year? And she'll be in the next one?"

Brienne looked between the two of them assessingly, her mouth twitched on a smile and a mischievous look entered her eyes when they darted to Jaime's for a moment before focusing again on Rhaenys. "I know she will be, and more than this one, but not next year. _I haven't finished writing the book yet_."

Jaime froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth when the words registered. He let his hand fall again, mouth hanging open for an unflattering second. " _You're B. Evenstar?_ " He said, his voice higher than he had wanted in his surprise. Brienne's blush deepened and expanded to her ears and neck, her pale skin showing her feelings almost as much as her expressive eyes, which were now narrowing. "Of course you are! The Evenstar was the name of the old kings of Tarth, why didn't I put two and two together?" Jaime's eyes were as wide as Rhaenys' now and his voice as breathless. Elia had the right of it, Jaime was a nerd. "Please tell me the next book will be the Long Night. There are so few good ones in that subject, and you did great with Clash of Kings. Is it going to be? No, don't tell me. No spoilers, please. But are you writing the Long Night?"

Brienne was still staring at him with the same half incredulous half suspicious expression, it flickered on her still flushed face before it cracked completely and her mouth twitched up and trembled. Brienne's shoulders started shaking and she threw her head back and started laughing, a big braying laugh that drew every single eye in the shop to them. She covered her mouth quickly, as if embarrassed, still shaking with laughter, then let her hand fall and kept laughing loudly when Jaime just chuckled in response to her mirth, joining her. It was impossible to stay straight faced with that kind of laugh, the sound seeming to bounce all around them, as big and expansive as the person it came from. Rhaenys and Aegon laughed as well, pulled in by the shocked amusement of it.

She calmed after a minute, her face still on fire and a smile on her face, her incredible eyes sparkling. Jaime felt the shocking impulse to press his mouth against the freckled skin of her throat and suddenly sobered up, still not knowing what had caused such reaction in Brienne, who had seemed so serious and composed to him all along.

"What?" He finally managed.

"Sorry," Brienne said, her voice still deliciously amused. "Like father, like daughter."

"We're not," Jaime began, used as he was to this assumption. He should have expected it, and he wouldn't mind if it was true but it was fully to Elia's credit they were such good kids. "They're Eli's, not mine."

"Oh. I thought--"

"I'm more like the cool uncle."

"You're not cool, you're a nerd," Rhaenys said, scrunching her nose and eliciting a snort from Brienne.

"Mom's mom, Jaime's Jaime, and dad's a cheating asshole," Aegon piped in helpfully, his face and hands completely smeared in chocolate. There was also chocolate coating the dregs of Jaime's sorbet, his punishment for turning his eye off them for a minute when he should know better.

"Aegon, language," Jaime said in his sterner tone, forcing his voice and face to stay neutral though he wanted to crow in triumph at those words. Rhaegar really was a cheating asshole.

Aegon pouted. "Rany say that!"

He turned his eyes to Rhaenys, who was looking innocently back at him. "That's what mom called him when she was talking to Uncle Oberyn."

"And you were clearly eavesdropping." 

Brienne was staring at them, still smiling though there was something wistful and almost sad in her eyes. She dropped her spoon in her empty cup and looked at her watch, Jaime did the same, surprised to see they had been there for longer than he thought. 

"Well, I think that's more about the family than our new friend wanted to know, it's time to go home," he said, cleaning Aegon's face as best he could and getting the kids ready to move. They walked together to the exit, Brienne slowing down her long strides so Rhaenys could keep pace with her. "Thanks for coming with us, you've made a new fan for life."

More than one, he thought on the way back home, listening to Rhaenys's excited rambles and thinking of Brienne's loud laugh.

Not that he hadn't been her fan already.

…

Jaime hated Mondays, especially the ones after a wedding. 

At least this had been a normal ceremony in King's Landing, no more than a hundred guests and no press invited, and the brides had no interest whatsoever in Jaime, though they had shared more than one appreciative look when Elia was in the room. Those were his favourites, though it meant he ended up giving up his weekend for work and then Monday came around and he still had to get up and drag his ass to the office. 

Pia was already there, and she had a big mug of coffee ready for him when he entered. 

"Morning, boss," she said with her usual smile handing him the coffee.

"Morning, angel," he took the mug and took a big gulp, feeling it scorch the roof of his mouth and bring new life to his exhausted body. "When are you leaving Peck and marrying me?"

Pia rolled her eyes at him, her cheeks taking an adorable rosy tint. "I've left the mail inside your office and the transcripts for the VM," she said, ignoring him as she usually did. Both of them knew he wasn't serious. "You have a consultation at 11:00 and a meeting with the caterers for the Altin ceremony at 12:30 for the changes in the menu."

He switched on his computer while he checked the post; there was nothing of interest in it, just some fashion and wedding magazines and some advertisement. Not that he had been expecting anything else. He looked at the transcripts for the voicemail then. Two requests for a first consultation and one written in all caps from Selyse Florent complaining that the make-up had given her allergies. As if that was somehow Jaime's fault. He put that aside and got to the last message. It had been recorded late on Friday, when no normal person would expect them to be in the office, and that was telling enough.

"This is Hyle Hunt," the message read and Jaime's lip curled in distaste at the name. He hadn't had any contact with the man since the last time in his office a couple of weeks ago. He had met with Brienne, though, to discuss some of the travel arrangements for guests, which finally included around a hundred people. "We have changed our minds and the original venue is not really us, change the booking to The Foundry." No apology, not please and no thank you. 

Jaime scowled at the note, wishing he could transmit his feelings through the paper to the cunt.

The venue he had booked on their original request had been Evenfall Hall, the old castle that dominated most of the port town, casting a large shadow over it. It was a spectacular place, and very well preserved for a castle that age. Jaime had only seen pictures and had already fallen in love it, with the history accumulated in its stones and the beautiful courtyard facing the sea. Selwyn had been the one to recommend it to Jaime for this, saying it had been one of Brienne's favourite places growing up.

"She would sneak away into the castle," Selwyn had told Jaime during the Hightower wedding, late in the evening when Jaime was already considering if he could leave before any other drunken guest thought to approach him or worse, his drunken sister tried to engage in conversation which would devolve into thinly veiled insults. "There is a small museum where the armoury used to be, and Brienne would spend hours just staring at the swords there. Goodwin, the curator for the museum, ended up hiring her as an assistant when she turned sixteen. He said she might as well get paid for spending her time there, and I'm sure that was what got her into studying Medieval history."

Jaime had read about the sword collection, which included the legendary Oathkeeper and its twin, Widow's Wail, and could imagine a young Brienne, tall and gangly and with wide eyes, staring transfixed at them. He could almost imagine her wielding them, Oathkeeper would fit her hand as if she was the Blue Knight reborn.

No wonder Brienne was B. Evenstar, and he still hadn't had time to fully process that bit of information, even when he had thought of little else in the week since that day at the cinema. He couldn't imagine a reason why she would change her mind regarding the venue, if she had at all.

Jaime stood from his desk and went looking for Pia. "Have you already deleted all the messages?"

She looked up from her monitor, her lips pursed. "Not all, I knew you'd want to listen to Cunt's." The name had spread.

Jaime nodded and she handed him a pair of headphones and pressed play on her system as soon as he indicated he was ready.

"This is Hyle Hunt." The first thing Jaime noticed was the background noise in the call, loud music almost drowning his voice, but not enough for him not to hear the slight slur in it. That explained the hour of the message. "We have changed our minds and the original venue is not really us, change the booking to The Foundry. " There was some laugh and Cunt's slurring voice right before the call was disconnected. "There, I got involved." 

Jaime removed the headphones and held back the urge to throw them. 

He checked the time, she wouldn't be in the office yet and he wasn't brave enough to call her before ten in a Monday. "Can you get me Olenna as soon as she's in the office?"

"Of course, boss."

He returned to his office and closed the door, thinking about The Foundry, which was a nice enough venue for unremarkable people like Hyle Hunt but not for Brienne Tarth, and Evenfall Hall with the courtyard facing the sea and the private cove of pinkish sand. 

He thought about Brienne's expression the last time she had been in his office, about her smile when Jaime confirmed Evenfall was available. He'd had to pull some strings and drop some names, but it had been worth it just for that smile. 

"I used to imagine myself in the castle in the old times," she had told Jaime, sitting in his office with a cup of coffee she had brought for him. As thanks for the ice cream, as if that was a normal gesture from a client, to bring Jaime coffee and sit with him exchanging stories. "Not like most girls, I suppose. I didn't see myself as a princess, I used to dream of being the Blue Knight. She would have lived there, she was the Evenstar eventually, I have seen her suit of armour which they have preserved in the armoury. It helped when I was the tallest and biggest girl in my school, it helped that I could see myself wearing it." Jaime could also see her wearing it, would love to see it in the flesh. 

He didn't know why the sudden change of plan, but he doubted it had been her idea. He wasn't even sure she knew, but that was easily fixed. Jaime had already decided that if there ended up being a wedding, it was going to be the one she deserved, even if her husband didn't deserve her.

"Hi Brienne, it's Jaime," he said when her voicemail activated. "I'm sorry but I have checked with The Foundry and they are fully booked now, I'm afraid we can't change the venue on such short notice. Please ring me to discuss when you have a moment."

When the phone rang again it was Pia patching Olenna through. "There is a place I want you to book in Tarth, actually make that two places," he said as soon as the line connected. 

"Do I even want to know what you're doing?" Olenna asked, but Jaime noticed she didn't ask for when or why. She was meddlesome but not stupid.

"I'm preventing a client from changing his mind again." 

And hoping another one changed hers. 

...


	6. Chapter 6

The drink in her hand wasn't strong enough for Brienne's taste, not if she wanted the ball of pure fury in the bottom of her stomach to dissolve before she had to go home. 

She would need to go home at some point, didn't she?

On the other side of the table, Margaery was staring with narrow eyes over the rim of her glass. "I'm going to need reinforcements," she said, hailing a waiter. "Can we have some margaritas, two pitchers to begin with, and two more glasses, please." She took her mobile and made a call. "The Fiery Heart, five minutes. It's an emergency."

Brienne let her do her thing, bemused, and kept drinking her very unsatisfying spritzer. A shot was placed in front of her and she took it and downed it, the burn of tequila making her eyes water and her stomach clench, but she was a fraction less tightly strung after that. Her mobile vibrated on the table, Hyle's name on the screen, she turned it face down so she didn't have to see it, and let it ring.

Almost at the same time as the waiter deposited the pitchers and glasses on the table two people joined them. Renly bent down to press dry lips to her cheek while Loras just stared at the array on the table, her upside down mobile and the thunder in her brow and sighed, sprawling on the chair by her right side. "What the fuck has Cunt done this time?"

_Don't call him that,_ came to her mouth the way it always did when Loras used that name, which usually coincided with some fight or other. This time, she bit down on the impulse, something that didn't escape her friend's notice, took one of the pitchers and filled all the glasses. She lifted her glass on a toast and they followed her example. "He tried to change the wedding venue without telling me. Apparently, _The Foundry is more us_."

"That hopped-up sports bar pretending to be a classy establishment?" Renly said, horrified, proving what a snob he could really be and completely missing the point.

"The very same." She downed her margarita, feeling the strength of the drink warming her up from the inside and refilled it under the intense scrutiny of her friends. "We had booked Evenfall Hall. We still have it, if only because The Foundry was already booked. Jaime called me this morning to apologize for being unable to change it in such late notice."

Brienne had been confused when she heard the message between two lectures, a flush of pleasure on her face when she'd seen Jaime's name and noticed she had a voicemail. They had talked just the previous Thursday, she'd gone to check with him about travel and accommodation arrangements for their wedding guests. Chatting with Jaime had made her feel better about giving into Hyle's request of having his friends from Uni there. 

"Our friends, Bri," he had insisted, completely deaf to her arguments. "We all shared classes together."

She had decided to save her breath since Hyle appeared to have selective memory and hearing regarding this subject. She had also decided to ignore how quickly she had let herself be convinced once she realized it would mean going to Jaime's office. Again.

She had known she shouldn't be looking forward to spending time with Jaime Lannister, who was in that order: taken, the most attractive man she had ever seen, not her fiancee. And yet, she had probably thought more about Jaime than Hyle since the cinema. Nobody had looked at her the way he had, and not just when she had confessed she was the author of the book he liked, she wasn't a stranger to that kind of admiration. It had been in his eyes in the changing room, and when they had met before the movie and he'd looked at her with a smile, happy to be seen with a woman several inches taller than him. 

She had felt terrible for enjoying her time with him so much; it had to be nerves because her wedding day was coming closer and nobody but she seemed to like Hyle. 

Except there were days, like today, when she didn't like Hyle all that much either. 

"What are you talking about?" Hyle had said when she called him after a very brief chat with Jaime. 

"The voicemail you left them on Friday? Demanding that they change our booking from Evenfall to The Foundry?" 

"I don't," he had started, indignant, but his voice had trailed off in a way she was familiar with. He would have that _oh shit_ expression on his face he got when he had been caught on something. It was a look that didn't bring good memories. "Oh, I forgot." Hyle had chuckled, amused. "I was having drinks with the guys at work and told them we're marrying in a castle because that's what you like and well, you know how the guys are, they laughed and told me how whipped I was, and that I should get involved since it also was my wedding. It's what you have been telling me these past weeks, isn't it? I didn't mean anything, it felt like the thing to do." He had kept laughing until he realized Brienne wasn't joining. "I forgot, though I did like that Foundry place better, so it's not a problem, is it? Why is Lannister calling you if I was the one leaving the message? Or did he call you to complain I was rude?"

Jaime had better manners and didn't need to complain to Brienne, he was perfectly capable of shutting up Hyle on his own. He was also used to dealing with children, except Rhaenys and Aegon were a lot cuter than Hyle.

"No, he called me because you've never given your contact number since you refused to be involved from the beginning, though it is, in fact, your wedding as well," Brienne had said, her voice sharp enough to cut her own tongue. "He called to say it was unfortunately booked out for the day."

"No harm done then, I don't see what's the problem." He didn't sound amused anymore.

" _No harm done_? We sent the invitations on Friday with Evenfall as the venue," Brienne had reminded him, her anger mounting at his cavalier attitude. "What if The Foundry was available? Would we have had to change everything because you got drunk? What if Jaime hadn't called me and changed the venue? I would have gone to Evenfall, thinking to marry there, while you were somewhere else. Unless that's the punchline of another of your jokes." Like it had been in college, and the only person who had not laughed at all had been her.

Not that she really believed that, at least she hadn't until she remembered how Hyle had insisted on inviting the assholes from uni, and all the terrible memories and insecurities had resurfaced. 

"Are you ever going to let that go, Brienne?" Hyle had hissed, and he had sounded hurt.

_I let go enough to date you, didn't I?_ She was about to say but she could see her TA, Pod, coming to grab her for her next lecture. 

As angry as she was, Brienne didn't believe in exposing her dirty laundry in public. "We'll talk later at home," she had said. 

"I don't know what time I'll be back, I'm working late today." Hyle had disconnected the call and Brienne had gone to her lecture, firing a quick message to Margaery on the way. 

She looked at her friends now, all of them staring with expressions ranging from fury to disgust, and refilled the cocktail glasses just so she had something to do with her hands.

"I know you don't want to hear this, Brienne," Margaery said breaking the silence, her voice a whipcrack. " _Dump that asshole_."

All her friends lifted their glasses in a toast and after a moment, so did she, slowly, as if the glass weighed a ton. For the first time in the many she had heard that sentence, she actually considered it.

…

The pounding headache and nasty feel in her mouth were enough punishment for the overindulgence of the night before that Brienne felt like calling in sick at work. Luckily, today she didn't have any lecture before noon and she could regain some semblance of humanity before facing her students.

She rolled out of bed and groped her way towards the bathroom; it wasn't the first time she woke up the worse for drink in Margaery's spare room, she knew the routine and luckily kept a spare toothbrush here. She put on her clothes after a cursory sniff and making sure there were no stains, then went foraging for food. There, on the kitchen counter, was a glass of water and some pills waiting for her next to a coke and a bacon bap. Her phone was next to it, and she switched it on while she downed half the coke in one big gulp, the sugar and caffeine hitting her bloodstream like a blessing. "Marg, you're a wonderful human being and I love you," she narrated to her messenger program before starting on the bap.

She checked her messages while she ate, leaning on Margaery's kitchen counter. There was one from her father confirming he would be home in two weeks, when she intended to visit, and one from Olenna asking about her dress colour and style for the bouquet. No messages from Hyle, though there were many missed calls from him. They stopped abruptly around 9pm, the time when Brienne half-remembered Loras plucking the mobile off the table and answering the call. 

"This is Loras. Don't wait up for her, she's staying with my sister tonight." 

He had switched it off after that, Brienne already too drunk to do anything about it. 

"You don't get it," she had said to Marg around the sixth pitcher, her voice slurring. She had gestured with her glass, sloshing the contents over her hand. She had tried to lick it then, but the glass kept tilting and she didn't want to waste more margarita, so she drank it instead. "You pretty people don't get it. If not Hyle, who wants to marry Brienne the Beauty?"

"Darling, many people would want you," Renly had lied, badly. He hadn't wanted her either when they were at uni. "It wasn't personal, you just don't have a cock." He had continued, proving pretty people could also hear internal monologues. She had wondered whether Jaime Lannister could also read minds like that and fervently hoped not. 

She would never be able to face him if he'd heard what she thought of his ass. And his legs. And his face. And his cute little teeth.

"No, Bri, you're speaking out loud," Marg said, a thread of amusement in her voice. "But please tell me more about Jaime Lannister."

Brienne flushed now remembering how she'd waxed poetic about his face and body and how nice he was with children, and how kind he had been with her, and how he had made her laugh so much and he hadn't asked her to quiet down, as if she wasn't embarrassing when she got like that.

Gods, they were going to think she had a crush on him, which she didn't. He had Elia and Brienne had Hyle, she wasn't free to crush on anyone.

Anyway, she didn't have time to think about that, she had a conversation pending with Hyle, and as much as she had needed to rant the night before, she was still angry and hurt and confused. 

And they were still getting married in a month.

"Sometimes Bri, it's better to be alone than to settle for someone that doesn't make you happy or even content," Marg had said once they were back in her flat and she was putting a very drunk Brienne to bed. 

"I don't want to be alone," Brienne had slurred, closing her eyes. "Roelle said nobody would want me. Hyle wants me." Or he wanted enough parts of her to put up with the rest.

"I could kill both of them," Marg had muttered before she gently pushed Brienne's hair back from her face. "Sometimes it's better to have a cat, a good bookshelf, and a battery-operated companion. At least until the right person comes."

Brienne had fallen asleep with that thought, and it hadn't sounded that bad during the night. She had dreamt of the right person, though she couldn't remember anything except that he wasn't Hyle and he had green eyes.

The day dragged on once she made it to the University; she usually hated Tuesdays, she only had two classes and the rest was office time to either mark essays or help students with them. Today her mind kept going back to the previous night and the things she had admitted while under the influence, things she had not even admitted to herself. 

She felt unbalanced and had little patience for the students who had not done their reading and were asking questions covered in it. The third time Pod shot her a look, she decided it was time to get more caffeine and greasy food, luckily there were only fifteen minutes left of that class. 

By the time she made it home, she was dreading the more than needed conversation with Hyle. He would be belligerent, she knew, as he had been during the phone call yesterday. He would find excuses, and shift the blame, and dodge all complains the way he usually did when they fought. 

Brienne was going to have to ask him if this wedding, and her, was what he really wanted. She didn't know which answer she dreaded more.

She was practically vibrating out of her skin when Hyle got home about half an hour after she did. He dropped his suitcase by the door like the did every day, hung his coat in the back of a chair, like Brienne kept asking him not to do, and stopped in the middle of the living room, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched, ready for a fight.

Brienne stood from the couch where she had been waiting, Hyle looked at her for a long beat and then exhaled, visibly letting go of the tension. She didn't know what he'd seen on her face to give him pause like this. 

"I'm sorry Bri. I keep messing up and being an ass," he took a step towards her and Brienne just stood there, wrongfooted. Whatever she had been expecting about this argument, it didn't start with his apology. "I guess I'm more nervous about the wedding than I thought."

She closed her eyes at that, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed, and let go of her anger as well.

...

Brienne leaned on the side of the ferry letting the spray of the seawater hit her face, the smell and fresh air uncoiling something inside of her she had not noticed was so tense. She closed her eyes and let the sun warm her face, a wide smile on her lips. 

She couldn't wait to be home. 

It had been a long time since the last time she had been back home, months, and though she spoke frequently with her father Brienne missed his arms around her and the feeling of the breeze on her face and the smell of the sea. Even when King's Landing had a seaport it never smelled like Tarth.

She had been looking forward to this weekend; the past couple of weeks had been very taxing. Ever since the fight, or well non-fight, with Hyle things had been strange. She couldn't put her finger in it, but there was something off.

It might be that it was her.

Hyle had apologized that day, had sounded as sincere and contrite as she had ever heard him.

"I was drunk; I know that's no excuse, but you know how the guys can be. They were teasing me, asking me if you're the one wearing the trousers and if I am to be your wife, and I--I didn't like what it said about you, I had to defend you." Hyle had never defended Brienne before, not during Uni when he had been _one of the guys_ , or after when they had already been together. "I'm sorry I didn't react well. You were right, I need to get more involved, this is also my wedding. I'll come with you to the next consultation with Lannister."

All words had fled Brienne then; she had been prepared for a confrontation, not for an apology, and she felt off-balance and unprepared. All her arguments, all her reasoning for taking a step back were suddenly wrong, and if she brought it up after his apology it would be she who was the asshole. 

She had nodded, dumbly, and kissed Hyle back when he had kissed her. And that night, when they'd gone to bed and he's wanted to have make-up sex, as he had called it with a smirk, she claimed she was too wiped out because of her hangover. 

"At least you were with Loras and Marg, so I know you were safe," Hyle had said, kissing her one more time, hungrily and deeply as if trying to make her change her mind about the sex.

"Yes, they always take care of me," she had said, pushing him away and closing her eyes. 

She had gone to sleep hoping things would make more sense in the morning. 

They had; things had gone back to normal in the morning. 

That was sort of the problem.

There was coffee already prepared when she woke up because Hyle took his before leaving but there was never any milk, her classes took up most of her day, and Hyle was already on the couch watching some sport or another when she got back from work. She prepared dinner like most nights, and after eating went to her study to write while Hyle kept watching telly. 

And the same the next day. And the day after.

On Friday Hyle went for drinks with his colleagues like he did every Friday and Brienne went to watch a movie, alone, wondering if she might happen to meet anyone interesting in the cinema this time. They had no plans for the weekend, something not so rare, but Brienne for some reason wasn't satisfied with it. Not this time, even if it gave her the chance to work on her book. 

It made her think about Marg's words, about settling too much, and it had made Brienne feel an itch under her skin. 

She tried to imagine things continuing like this, in this sort of stasis only broken when they fought, the same bloodless way it had been for the past years and where before it had given her a sort of peace, knowing she would have someone by her side long term and they would avoid the pitfalls of most relationships, now she felt it was insufficient. 

She didn't just want someone by her side, she wanted someone _with her_.

She felt terrible about it, which was the reason she had been happy that Hyle couldn't make it to Tarth for the weekend. 

"Oh, I thought I mentioned the guys had set the Stag do for this Saturday," Hyle had said when Brienne asked him whether he preferred ferry or flight. 

"I thought you had it the same weekend as my Hen party?" 

"No, I told you. You said it was fine." He hadn't, she didn't want to fight for this, though.

"I forgot. I'll get only one ticket then," she had said, elated he wasn't coming and guilty for feeling like that. 

She would spend the weekend with her father and speak to him, seriously, bring all the doubts she'd been having these past weeks. Her father was a fair man, he might not always see eye to eye with Hyle but he would want what was best for Brienne. 

He would tell her if she was expecting too much.

She smiled when the ferry docked and saw her father there, already waiting for her, larger than life and so solid, the only man who had ever made Brienne feel safe and protected and petite.

They hugged when she got to him, his arms around her anchoring her. "It's been too long my child," he said, the imprint of his lips on her cheek warming her. 

"I know, dad. I have been so busy."

He took the suitcase from her hand, though it was tiny and light and she was more than strong enough for it, and slid his arm around her waist and started guiding her to his car. "I hope you don't mind it's not just the two of us this weekend, we got unexpected guests."

"I don't mind, I like Olenna," she said, it wasn't that strange an occasion for her to visit her father, and she would probably also give good advice to Brienne. 

"It's not just Olenna," her father said, an odd note in his voice. 

Brienne looked up and froze in her tracks. There, leaning against her father's car and animatedly chatting with Olenna Tyrell was Jaime Lannister. 

The living embodiment of all the doubts she had about her own relationship. 

She remembered he had mentioned visiting Tarth to finish up with some details, but somehow she had not thought it would be during the weekend. She also remembered their second consultation when he had said Selwyn had offered to show him around. It was a coincidence, she knew it was, but it made her feel suddenly trapped, like she should want to turn around and board the ferry back home. 

She wasn't even surprised by how much she didn't want to do that.

It was going to be an interesting weekend.

...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer and I had to cut it there because it wanted to keep getting longer and longer and longer. And it's only been half a day in Tarth XD  
> Just as a note, though this is definitely a Jaime/Brienne fic, I want it also to be a Brienne/self-esteem fic. As I mentioned in a few comments, I am not a believer of swapping boyfriends or going from one straight to the next. Brienne needs to leave Cunt, but she needs to do it for herself or we haven't resolved a problem, just swapped it for a prettier one.  
> I also wanted them to have a conversation where she learns a bit more about him, but I didn't want it to be about Aerys, not this time.  
> Thanks to everyone who has been commenting, I honestly didn't expect this fic to get such an amazing reception! It's been amazing seeing how many people are rooting for Brienne here (and how much we all hate Hyle)

Brienne's first impulse when she saw Jaime Lannister leaning on her father's car, golden and casual and oh so tempting, was to turn on her heel and board the ferry back to King's Landing. The second one, barely a heartbeat after, was no less shocking and made her wish her face didn't colour so easily, her mouth suddenly dry. 

Her father pretended not to notice, something she was glad for, he gave the suitcase back and guided her to the back so she could put it in the trunk and compose herself. 

When she turned back to them her face was back to her pale and freckled normal state, Jaime straightened and smiled at her, his entire face had transformed in a way only her father's did when he saw her. 

"Brienne, please believe me when I say I am not stalking you," he said as a way of greeting, sending a very pointed look at Olenna. Brienne found herself returning his smile. "I was going to come on Wednesday, but Olenna called to say she was coming today to spend the weekend and convinced me to change it, so it's entirely her fault I'm crashing your family weekend."

"You're not inconspicuous enough to be a stalker." He was too blond and tall and green-eyed to blend into the background, too handsome not to be noticed everywhere he went.

"Ignore the brat, Brienne, he lives to irritate me," Olenna said, her fond tone belying her words. She stepped forward and tilted her head gently to the side so Brienne could lean down and kiss her cheek. "I haven't seen you in too long, sweetheart, you're magnificent as ever." 

Brienne flushed at Olenna's usual praise before climbing on her father's car. She leaned against the window for the short drive, just looking at the island's landscape and listening with half an ear to the conversation going on in the backseat and answering only when her name was called.

"I was going to take you all for Marina's famous stew unless you're too tired from the trip?" her father asked once she turned to look at him.

"I'm never too tired for Marina's stew," she replied, the knot of tension in her gut dissolving a bit more at her father's smile and the idea of her favourite dish in her favourite restaurant.

Marina was happy as always to see her, she insisted on hugging Brienne, her greying head barely reaching Brienne's shoulder. "That 's what I call an upgrade!" Marina stage whispered when Brienne leaned down, giving Jaime a blatant once over. She felt her entire face catching fire, the denial stuck in her throat while she shot a panicky look at Jaime, hoping he hadn't heard. 

If he had, he didn't show it.

They took their usual table on the terrace overlooking the bay, the sunset turning everything pink and violet, clusters of fairy lights hanging over the tables giving an intimate and warm feeling to the place. 

"I don't know how you ever drag yourself away from here," Jaime said, his voice breathless and low. He was staring around with childlike wonder and it was doing weird things to Brienne's insides. 

"Work," Brienne replied as dry as she could. "Unfortunately Tarth doesn't have a big University."

"You are a Medieval History lecturer on top of a writer, right?" He didn't even look at the menu Marina handed him, he turned his smile on her. "Selwyn said something about a famous stew, I'll have that, and whatever else you recommend. And some Dornish red." Brienne was about to tell him it was the wrong wine, for the food and for the company, when she saw his impish expression.

"You really test my patience, brat," Olenna said sharply with a glare and his smile widened. "Ignore him, my dear, he's an idiot. We'll have two bottles of your best Arbor gold." Brienne bit her lip not to laugh and told Marina her order as well. "I'm sure Tywin taught you enough that you know not to drink that swill with decent food, though I know your sister downs it by the gallon."

"Nobody ever accused my sister of good taste, just look at her new husband." Olenna shuddered theatrically and Brienne looked between the two of them, their shared history evident in the way they talked to each other and the ease of their posture. Jaime turned to look at Brienne and mouthed ' _cheating asshole_ ' so she knew who they were talking about even if she had not read any of the magazines Marg seemed to collect, and she felt warm at his thoughtfulness.

The rest of the dinner progressed in a similar fashion and Brienne was happy to just observe, though Jaime and her father kept trying to pull her into the conversation. Her father was smiling at them, opening laughing at some points. He liked Jaime that much was obvious, and though he was a genial man, he usually took a bit longer to warm up to people.

Brienne tried to remember if Hyle had ever been that open and friendly, not only with her father and Olenna but also with her friends, and immediately made herself stop. She shouldn't be comparing Hyle with Jaime, they were not the same. 

Jaime was friendly, but he wasn't technically her friend. Not quite.

Her throat dried when she realized that neither was Hyle, not really. He wasn't her confidante the way her mom first and now Olenna were for her father, and he wasn't the person she always thought about when something fun came up, or when she wanted to do something or go somewhere. He wasn't the first thought in her head in the morning nor the last at night, and she didn't miss him terribly when they weren't together. 

If Hyle wasn't her friend, _what had they built their relationship from?_ She couldn't remember now.

She swallowed the bitterness that brought up and pushed the thought away determined to enjoy the dinner; she had the whole weekend to ponder about it.

It was well past midnight when Brienne finally made it to bed, her body aching with exhaustion but her mind running a thousand miles per minute. She shifted in her bed, her body remembering the best posture in the worn grooves of her old childhood mattress, the one where her feet poked out after her last growth spurt during college.

She had missed her house and her room, hadn't realized how long it had been since the last time she had come on her own. The last few times Hyle had been with her, and they had taken over the guest room, where there was a super-king bed long enough even for her. 

"I prefer my old room," Brienne had insisted when her father had told her she could use the guest room. Olenna was sharing her father's room, there was no point in them pretending otherwise, and Jaime wasn't staying at the house, he had his own hotel room. 

The bed might not be the most comfortable but it had been the right choice, her room was almost like she remembered it; the pale blue walls with old posters and tall bookcases filled with a mixture of romance novels and dry history books, the few soft toys she had collected as a child. On her bed was the ugliest and rattiest dragon plushie, which had belonged to her mother first and then to Galladon before passing down to her. One of its wings had been mended where she tore it trying to take it from her brother when Brienne was three, and she could see the uneven stitches where her brother had tried to fix it before their father realized what had happened. 

She had that plushie pressed against her chest now. "Hey Morne," she whispered to the toy. "What should I do?"

Morne had no advice to give, and Brienne fell asleep hugging him like she did when she was a kid and missed her brother.

…

She could hear voices in the garden when Brienne dragged herself from her bed in the morning, eyes almost sealed shut with sleepiness and her hair standing on end like it had lost a fight with the pillow. Her father and Olenna were having breakfast out in the garden more than likely. 

The sun was out in full force, that had been what woke her up, the sweltering temperature in her room. She opened her window and let some of the air in, revelling in the warmth of the sun and the bit of breeze that came in. A swim felt like the best idea right now, and there was a tiny beach close enough to walk. 

After breakfast, of course. 

Her mind was still spinning uselessly around itself, but Brienne was determined not to think about it just yet. She had the entire weekend to make her decision.

She put on her bikini and a short pareo, glad that she had thought to pack it, and pointedly didn't even look at her mobile on top of the bedside table. 

"There's a full pot of coffee, darling," her father shouted from the garden when she garbled a greeting from the kitchen. She veered to grab it, wondering if her father would scold her if she drank straight from it while she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her bare feet feeling wonderful on the sun-warmed stone leading to the grass. "Bring it out. I have mugs here."

Her mind ground to halt and Brienne blinked at the scene. The garden table was filled with food, an assortment of pastries and juices which had not come from their kitchen, and sitting around it were her father and Olenna, who she had expected. 

And Jaime, who she had definitely not. 

He stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth half-open, his look travelling all over her form in a way that was raising goosebumps at the same time it made her flush. Would it be rude to go back inside and get a robe? Or a bedsheet?

"Ah Brienne, we didn't want to wake you up, sweetheart," Olenna said, breaking the spell. "You got here just as the coffee was ready."

"I have perfect timing, then." Brienne was surprised at how normal her voice sounded. She made her legs move again and filled all the mugs with coffee before sitting at the table. Jaime still hadn't closed his mouth, it was distracting. She turned to look at her father. "So what's your plan for today, dad? Are you showing Jaime around?" She remembered he had said something to that effect. 

"Ah, yes, I asked him to come for breakfast so we could go, but--" he trailed off and Brienne frowned, she knew that tone. "Could you show him around? It's just a tour of the venue and your favourite places, and I'm not feeling too well after the wine yesterday."

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, he had only had one glass and they all knew it. 

"You don't have to, I can find the place on my own," Jaime said with another of those pointed looks, this time at her father. 

"No, it's ok." She did not mind spending time with Jaime, though maybe she should. "I hope you brought swimming trunks."

"I didn't, but I'm sure we can find a place to buy some."

That settled it, then.

Brienne didn't miss the look her father and Olenna exchanged but decided to leave it for later. She was going to need to speak to them anyway. 

They left way later than Brienne had intended, stuffed with good food and good coffee, she had put on a sundress and heeled sandals, and a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, and grabbed a bag with towels and sunblock. Her skin burned too easily for an islander. Jaime looked overdressed and flushed next to her, at least until they stopped by the beachfront shops and he swapped his jeans and shoes for swimming trunks and sandals, a terrible shirt opened and exposing his tanned and sculpted chest. 

"If you don't take those socks off, I'm not showing you anything but the way back to your hotel," Brienne had warned him, keeping her eyes pointedly on his feet until Jaime had huffed a laugh and removed the offending garment. 

Brienne still didn't look up, Jaime's feet were a slight safer thing to look at than, well, the rest of Jaime. He really was stupidly beautiful, it made Brienne wish she could cover her entire face with the hat to prevent people from looking at her but somehow knew he would have none of it.

They went to Evenfall first, Brienne didn't miss the way Jaime's eyes took everything in from the moment they parked her father's car there. The owners had tried to keep some authenticity and there was a bit of a walk from the car park to the main portcullis, the incline not all that gentle. The view, though, as they walked up the hill to the cliffs was magnificent, the scant trees flanking the path on both sides and the wide expanse of water at the back gave it an enchanted air. 

"So much better than the brochure," Jaime said. 

It was well preserved for such an old castle, and Brienne felt the nostalgia of being back there, where she'd had her first job. She wanted to run to the armoury and see if Goodwin was still there, see Jaime's reactions to the swords and armour and the sheer weight of history that a place like that carried. 

She turned to him but someone was already walking out from the offices on the right of the courtyard. "Mr. Lannister, thanks for coming. I'm Lorraine, we spoke on the phone," the woman greeted him, eyeing his attire critically. She was dressed in a dark, professional suit and Jaime's hideous shirt clashed with absolutely everything, not that he seemed to mind. 

He straightened and extended a hand to Lorraine, his smile dimming and turning into the professional one she remembered from the office when she had met him the first time. Brienne was suddenly reminded this was not a pleasant getaway for Jaime, as much as he looked like a tourist now, he was here to work. On her wedding. Which she was growing increasingly dubious it was going to go ahead.

Brienne's spirits fell; she didn't want to do this now. 

"Brienne, do you want to come with us while we discuss tablecloth and wine choices?" Jaime asked her as if he could read her mind. He made it sound like a terrible chore and pulled a tiny quirk of her lips. "If you prefer, go to the armoury and I'll find you there. We're not leaving before I see those swords."

She left after a quick nod, her feet moving down the known path to the west courtyard and the armoury. There were some old-style targets set on the ground, and a straw dummy Brienne had whacked with tourney swords when she worked here and could attend the lessons. The armoury was open, Brienne walked in, feeling the cool air inside raise the fine hairs on her arms. A middle-aged man she had never seen before appeared from Goodwin's tiny office, or what used to be his office, some other name was there now. 

"I was looking for Goodwin," she said when the man just stared at her. "I'm Brienne Tarth, I used to work here."

"Oh, he retired last month. I think he's touring Braavos right now but he'll be back for your wedding," the man said, smiling. "You're Selwyn's daughter, right, the one who's going to get married here?"

"I'm his daughter," she confirmed, keeping silent about the rest. "I just thought I--" she made a vague gesture encompassing the armoury, uncertain what she had really wanted to do there. She had imagined she'd catch up with Goodwin until Jaime got there and then they could show him around.

"Of course, have a look around. Give my regards to your father," the man got back inside his office, leaving Brienne alone with the swords and her thoughts.

She walked inside, the smell and coolness and the lighting in the room reminded her of when she was a teenager and she came here to hide from the kids in school. Roelle had been fired when Brienne was eleven, her father had come early and found her scolding Brienne for whatever transgression she had managed that day. 

"You're already the ugliest and clumsiest child I've ever seen, do you also have to be boring and a tomboy? Not even your father's money is going to get you a husband at this rate," she had been saying, nothing Brienne had not heard before, and nothing that was a lie. Her father had hit the roof and fired her on the spot, and the succession of nannies that followed was closely watched, or as close as a single parent who had to work could. None had been as cruel, they didn't hate her as Roelle had, but they didn't care for her either. They were just indifferent and in it for the money, the way Roelle had told Brienne it would always be for her.

The first time Brienne had been in the armoury, one day when she was fourteen and a boy in her class had mocked her in front of the entire class, all of them laughing, she wound up in front of the Blue Knight's armour. 

Goodwin had found her there, struggling not to cry.

"You're almost tall enough that you would fit in that armour," he had told Brienne, and he was smiling at her. It was the first time her height had been referred to as something positive, and Brienne had been speechless, fighting against her tears. "Do you know her? She was the strongest Knight and helped save the realm during the Long Night." 

Brienne had known about the Blue Knight, but it had been Goodwin who taught her more about her as a person; the failed betrothals, her relationship with the White Brother, the wars and finally becoming the first woman Knight and the Evenstar. She had been rumoured to be called the Ugliest Maid in Westeros at the time, and Brienne had seen herself reflected in her. Had vowed to become strong like her, to carve her own way if necessary and don't let others choose her path.

She was wondering now where that certainty she had as a teenager had gone. She wasn't independent; she had money and a good job and friends, and yet she had kept measuring her value in the worst possible way and falling into the traps Roelle and society had set in front of her. 

She had thought she needed to marry to be happy, but she was not happy. And it wasn't nerves.

She stopped in front of the armour; now she was as tall as it was she could look straight on to the visor and imagine the Knight wearing it. She would have been big and broad and blond as Brienne, she wondered whether the Blue Knight would have married Hyle Hunt because he was the only one who asked, but she already knew the answer.

She had hers as well. 

With a sigh, she put her hand against the glass and let go of everything in her head except enjoying the rest of the weekend in good company. 

This was now a problem for when she returned to King's Landing.

"Thank you," she whispered in the silent room.

"Is that her real armour?" Jaime asked from behind her, even in the faint reflection on the glass his eyes looked huge and liquid, mouth stretched on a grin. He almost pushed Brienne aside in his eagerness to press his face to the glass. 

She couldn't help but be charmed by it. "Yes." 

"I've always wondered how they made pieces as intricate as this one," he commented, pointing at the carving on the pauldrons to represent Tarth's heraldic.

"The blacksmiths were very talented," at his encouraging look, Brienne launched on an explanation of the procedures of the time. She began slowly, picking up speed and certainty as they walked and showing different pieces to illustrate her points, Jaime hanging from her every word. 

He really was a nerd, but so was she, and he wasn't just a captive audience but had interesting insights about the subject and argued some points with her in a way only a few of her older students dared. "I might not be a scholar," he said when they were stopped in front of Oarthkeeper, his expression avaricious. "But I have read enough about them. I have always wanted to see the real one, I don't know why it took me so long to come."

They went to the small shop afterwards, Jaime bough foam replicas of Oathkeeper and Widows Wail for Rhaenys and Aegon, and then challenged Brienne to a duel with them in the yard. 

"Engarde," he said, brandishing Widow's Wail like it was a rapier.

"That's fencing," Brienne grabbed Oathkeeper with both hands and whacked him with it, their loud laughter attracting the looks of everyone around. " _This_ is how you fight with a longsword."

They were still chuckling when they went down to the cove, Brienne wasted no time on taking her dress off and wading into the water, there were no waves in the little semi-circular cove and no visitors. Jaime sat on the sand a short distance from the water, just looking at her. 

"Don't you want to swim?" Brienne hollered and he shook his head, waving his right arm at her. 

"I'm fine here."

She enjoyed the water for a bit longer, just floating with the sun on her face and her eyes closed. She felt at peace there, the world muffled by the water and the soft rocking motions of her body in the calm water, and with her decision. 

She laid on the sand next to Jaime when she finally got out of the water, her pale skin already pinking even with the sunblock she had applied at home, her freckles coming out in full force. 

"This place is so perfect," Jaime said, his voice dreamy. "I'm going to start recommending it to clients just so I have an excuse to come myself."

"You can always have your wedding here if that's something you and Elia want." Brienne was pretty certain they weren't married, he had introduced Elia as his partner, not wife, and he didn't wear a ring. 

Jaime turned his head to frown at her. "I'm not marrying Elia," he said, his voice choked. "We're not together."

"Oh." But the way he spoke about her, there was love there. She had seen it, and she had seen him with Elia's children, they treated him like family. Like a father.

"She's my best friend, and the most important person in my life," he admitted easily. "But we're not like that."

"But you're not gay," she blurted out, flushing crimson when she realized what she'd said. As if the only reason a man and a woman could be friends were if one was gay, that was the kind of shit she expected from Hyle, she knew better. "I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"Don't worry, I have heard that one a lot." Because of his job. Like Hyle had thought. Brienne felt even worse and opened her mouth to apologize. He shook his head. "Seriously, don't worry. Only a gay man, or a complete asshole, would not fall for Elia. I did, for a bit, but she didn't and I got over it," he admitted, candidly. Like it was that easy. "You probably know about the trial and that I got kicked out of the army," he continued, looking back at the sky, Brienne did the same. Sometimes it was easier to talk if you thought you were alone, and with the sound of the waves bracketing them and the wide expanse of sky it was easy to believe they were the only people in the world. At least for a bit. "I didn't cope well, I turned into the biggest asshole on earth; you know the works, rich drunk boy making a tit of himself publicly to anger dad. Nobody cared about what happened beyond what my father said was the truth, only Olenna asked me if there had been a reason for what I did." Brienne was tempted to ask about it but didn't want him to stop talking. "Then I got drunk one night and crashed my car, luckily against a post and not another car or person, and this happened." He waved his prosthetic hand. "Drunk asshole me had found about Rhaegar sleeping with my sister, Cersei months before. My relationship with her--well, let's just say it's complicated and leave it at that. She had convinced me to keep her secret, and I did. Then I was in the hospital, regrettably sober and minus one hand and all my family, and Elia came into my room." His voice had been getting softer and softer, lost in his memories. Brienne was entranced, watching every little expression flickering on his profile, the way his left hand clenched when he said his sister's name and how his lips curled up when he said Elia's. "She was pregnant with Aegon, had just come out of an appointment with her OB-gyn and had heard I was in the hospital. I couldn't believe this person who barely knew me came to see me when my own family had not bothered in the two days I had been there. She was so kind, and I had known her husband had been fucking my sister for months. I told her everything, and then, when the shit hit the fan, I sided with her through the divorce process and provided all the proof she needed." He turned to look at Brienne then, his eyes shining with anger and grief. "That's when we became friends, and Rhaenys pretty much adopted me for her father-figure." She could see that, but he had also adopted them all as his family. "Then the asshole tried to get custody of them, even Aegon who hadn't been born yet, and I threatened with exposing the truth about Aerys Targaryen to the public. I was disowned and my sister has not spoken to me since, but it was worth it. I got a better family in the exchange." It was obvious in the way he behaved with them and the way he spoke about them, there was love there, even if it wasn't the kind of love she had believed. 

They stayed there, lying on the sand in silence for a bit longer, the sun beating down on them. At some point she went back into the water, and so did he, and they floated and swam and played around and all the time Brienne thought about what he had said, about how this weekend was changing so many things. 

She had been mistaken about him, but it didn't change anything. It couldn't.

He was single. She was not. 

_Not yet._

...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been the hardest to write because I wanted to keep the angst to a minimum but, which means I had to re-write three times and resign myself to the fact that it was impossible.  
> When I started the fic I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write, I had Jaime Lannister: Wedding Planner in my head and thought it could be a fun, humorous, short thing. Turns out, it's gone definitely beyond all those things. And well, I think we all knew there was going to be a reckoning, because well intentions or not, nobody likes to be manipulated and lied to.  
> thanks so much to everyone who has stuck with me through all this, the last two chapters should be a lot faster

"I fucked up," Jaime said the moment the call connected. 

The same three words had been going through his head for the past few hours, or more accurately the entire day since the moment he had seen Brienne Tarth walking into her father's garden barefoot wearing nothing but a bikini, a pareo, and the pillow creases on her face. He had never in his life before felt the need to bundle someone in his arms and tuck them into bed, and at the same time to push them against the nearest wall and fuck them until they were both sweaty, panting messes.

He had hated Olenna so much for putting him in that position. He had loved her just as much for putting Brienne in his life. 

But he was so very fucked.

"Hi, Jaime, how's Tarth?" Elia said, her voice dripping with amusement. "And how's Brienne Tarth?"

Jaime had expected that question since the moment he had sent Elia a message, panicked and excited in equal measure, the day before when Selwyn had taken them to the port to wait for his daughter. 

Tarth was beautiful and he didn't know why they had never come here. He was definitely bringing Rhaenys to visit Evenfall at some point and well, he guessed he'd bring Elia as well. She was going to love Marina's stew.

As for Brienne, she was funny and smart, had a wealth of knowledge but never talked dismissively when Jaime asked questions, she was kind to everyone she talked to, and had the loudest laugh Jaime had ever heard. She had legs for days, a powerful and muscled back, and the most beautiful and impressive eyes Jaime had ever seen. Jaime had never felt himself responding to any woman the way he had responded to her today; many women society considered prettier than Brienne had thrown themselves at him, some wearing nothing but a smile, and never had Jaime needed to conceal an erection like he'd had today at the beach when Brienne had rushed into the water like a child, still smiling after their impromptu swordfight, and dove inside only to re-emerge a bit further in and dripping wet, calling for Jaime to join her.

Jaime owed his brother an apology for not believing him about importune erections, and the universe owed him an apology for giving him one when he was well past his teens.

"Tarth is gorgeous and we need to come with the kids," Jaime said addressing the easier of the questions.

"Is it? Good to know," Elia said and her tone let him know she wasn't going to let him get away with that answer. He had called her, after all. "Now tell me how you fucked up."

"I like Brienne," he admitted out loud for the first time. Not that he hadn't known that, but it was different to say it to someone else. "Maybe a little more than like."

"Brienne Tarth? Tall as the Blue Knight, and with the bluest eyes and the loudest laugh. The one who wrote the book, and she's so smart and kind and funny," Elia said, her tone suggesting she had heard those words several times. It made Jaime chuckle. " _That Brienne?_ "

"I knew Rhaenys liked her," he said.

Elia laughed. "Rhaenys? That was all you, Jaime. You haven't shut up about her since that day at the cinema."

"Oh." He was glad this was a phone conversation, Jaime felt his face heating up, something Elia liked to make fun of if she saw.

"I'm happy for you, Jaime," she said, her tone gentle. "For a while, I feared you might be like me--"

"Perfect in every way?" He cut her off before she could suggest otherwise, voice hard. He had heard some of the things she said about herself sometimes, and he'd have none of that.

"Yes, that." They stayed in silence for a moment, just listening to each other's breaths. "Anyway, how did you fuck up?" Elia said, her tone firm, moving past it.

Wasn't it obvious? "I just told you."

"Yes, you _more than like Brienne._ " She didn't need to make it sound so childish, and she wasn't getting it. 

"Brienne, _whose wedding I am preparing to take place in two weeks_."

"You know it won't."

"And if it doesn't," he continued pointedly as if she hadn't spoken. "It's because we have meddled in it." She was right, though. He knew the wedding wasn't going to go ahead. 

There had been something in Brienne that had changed midday today, a weight had lifted. She had been mostly silent during the previous night's dinner, pensive and occasionally looking conflicted, but that had changed when they were in Evenfall. Between the moment she had gone to the armoury and the moment Jaime had joined her there it was like a shadow had been removed from her eyes. It had occurred to Jaime she might have wanted to spend the weekend with her father and his presence was an imposition, part of Olenna's unsubtle manipulations, especially when Selwyn had begged off the visit so Brienne had to show him around. 

Suddenly Jaime didn't want to be a factor for her change of heart.

"Don't you think if she doesn't marry is because her fiance is an asshole and she deserves better?" Elia asked, no judgement in her tone. 

"She does." There was no doubt about that. "But we--"

" _Not you, Olenna_ ," and there was the judgement. Elia liked Olenna but she wasn't blind to her manipulations like many people were. Neither was Jaime, to be honest, but they usually didn't involve him. He had let himself be used for this one with his eyes fully opened. "Don't forget she's the one who cashed in a favour so we got involved."

"I know that, but I still--"

"Did you set out to seduce Brienne away from her fiance?" Elia asked, cutting him off before he could start to argue the point. "Did you treat her any differently than you would have because of Olenna's request? Did you lie to her in any way? Apart from refusing to move the venue booking, which will in no way affect her wedding except to make it more tasteful than The Foundry could. Have you influenced her decision whether to marry or not in any way? I don't think you have that much power over her, you have just met after all, regardless of how fast you've fallen for her."

"I haven't--," Jaime started to deny it, then sighed. He had, hadn't he? "You know I didn't do any of those things."

Elia hummed. "You told me Olenna had left you with only two choices, being an asshole and being yourself."

" _I am an asshole_ , you keep reminding me that." He was, or he could be when needed. He was self-serving and sarcastic and had a temper, though most of the time he kept those things leashed. He'd had to learn after the army and his family. He didn't know that he would have acted differently had Brienne and Cunt walked into his office without Olenna's recommendation. No, he knew he would have kicked him out almost immediately for acting the way he had, and he would have told Brienne to either find another fiancee or another planner. 

He would not have given her a second thought after that, and he would have definitely not spoken to her outside of the office.

He would have missed the chance to fall for her.

"But you're not a cunt, so you're much better than her fiancee and that was what Olenna was counting on," Elia's voice took him out of his thoughts and back to the problem at hand. "You should talk to Brienne and tell her the truth, though. Whether she ends up marrying him or not, nobody likes being manipulated, even for their own good."

"You're right." 

"I usually am, that's the reason you keep me around. Now, tell me all about this wonderful island so I can start planning our next holiday."

Jaime closed his eyes and leaned back on his bed, picturing the beautiful sunset he had seen yesterday from Marina's restaurant, the purple and pink of the sky and the sound and smell of the sea, so close and sparkling. 

"There's this restaurant, with a terrace overlooking the sea--"

…

Jaime woke up with the sun beating down on him, he stretched on his bed and luxuriated in the feeling of soft sheets against his skin. He'd had a pleasant dream, the last wisps of it vanishing under the morning sun but he could remember Brienne's blue eyes and her wet body had been on it. 

He closed his eyes again and tried to picture it, the gleaming of her skin under the sun, water sluicing down her corded and defined muscles as she stood on the beach. Jaime had wanted to put his mouth all over that pale and freckled skin, would have drunk all the saltwater clinging to her if he was only allowed to. His mouth was dry now just imagining the taste and his cock was hard, harder than it had been in, well, ever. He closed his hand around it and thought about Brienne, about how those long and strong legs would feel around his waist, or even better, his head. If only he could, he would have laid down Brienne on the fine sand of Evenfall's cove and kissed every single inch of her. She had small breasts, all the more perfect to suck into his mouth, Jaime would have sucked on the nipples he had barely seen through the cloth until she was writhing and dripping with more than saltwater, and then he would have crawled down her body to drink it all. He tried to imagine how she would taste, with the brine of the sea still clinging to her skin and her own flavour. She would be wet and warm and strong, and he would bet he could fuck her with his tongue and fingers until she gripped his hair in her strong hands and held him against her cunt as she gushed and came on his greedy mouth. With a sharp cry and a shudder, Jaime came all over his hand, the last remnants of the dream and fantasy dispersing around him. 

He stared at his hand in surprise for a moment, this was a first for him as well. He had sometimes done this when he was a teenager because it was what he was supposed to do, get hard with a stiff wind and jerk off thinking about hot girls, or boys if that was what rocked his boat. But he hadn't, he never got hard without direct stimulation, and the thoughts in his head had never been enough to get him to the end. He had stopped masturbating when it had proven an exercise in frustration more than a fun pastime.

He got up from the bed and straight into the bathroom to wash himself of the evidence, a satisfied smile on his face.

There was a text from Olenna on his mobile when he emerged from the shower. ' _Find something to entertain yourself for a bit. We'll be there to pick you up before your ferry_.'

He had been right, Brienne had wanted some time alone with her father. 

Jaime got ready and picked up his small suitcase before going down to the hotel lobby for breakfast and to check out, he had the ferry back just after lunchtime, enough time to scoop a couple of places and do some actual work before he went back home.

He ended up in Marina's restaurant again, sitting on his own in the terrace enjoying a beer and the view, which had nothing to envy the one at sunset. In the morning the waters had the most alluring blue he had ever seen, one that made him think of Brienne, not that he hadn't been thinking about her the entire time. 

As if conjured by his wandering thoughts, he heard his name called and looked up to see her approaching with Selwyn and Olenna. He frowned for a moment when he saw them, Brienne's eyes looked a bit red and shiny, but she was walking straighter and taller, her shoulders back and her head high, the imposing woman Jaime had suspected she could be the first time he had seen her. Selwyn had a soft and loving smile on his face when he looked at her but it was Olenna's cat who got the cream expression what made everything click for Jaime. 

He should not feel like smiling when he was so clearly out of a job.

"Came for the stew again, Jaime?" Selwyn asked when they reached his table. He took the seat in front of Jaime, and Brienne and Olenna took the ones by his side. "You don't mind if we join you, do you?"

"Of course not," he had sent Olenna a message saying he was there, after all. 

"I'm heading back in the same ferry as you," Brienne said, Jaime finally noticed the small suitcase by her side. "We can go together after lunch."

His heart thumped in his chest at her smile. "That would be perfect." 

He would have time to talk to her on the ferry, then. 

...

Tarth was little more than a speck on the horizon and King's Landing was swiftly approaching from the other side, they were outside enjoying both the sun and breeze and chatting about nothing, the meandering kind of conversation he enjoyed the most when there really wasn't anything to say to each other but they still enjoyed talking. 

Except Jaime had something to say and he had already changed his mind a few times in the past hour since they boarded the ferry. 

"I have to tell her," Jaime had told Olenna when he pressed a kiss to her cheek right before boarding the ferry. "She's already decided to cancel the wedding, hasn't she? I don't like that we've lied to her."

"Just a white lie." Olenna had not looked upset or even surprised at that. "You can't leave well enough alone," she said, tiredly but didn't try to convince him not to, she did know him after all. "You do what you have to do, brat."

Brienne was winding down with a story about her TA, a clumsy boy who apparently idolized her and had called her Ser repeatedly, like she was a knight, and always blushed when he did. She was smiling softly, her eyes crinkled at the corners and her expression so fond Jaime was powerless to do anything but return her smile. He had never felt such a strong urge to kiss someone. 

Something must have shown on his expression because Brienne faltered, her voice trailed off. She looked startled for a second then her brows furrowed, eyes wide and shocked. Finally, they moved to Jaime's mouth and she leaned closer, a blush staining her cheeks. 

She was going to kiss him, Jaime realized, and his gut burned with sudden want. His mouth dried and his heart started to pound in his chest, he leaned closer to her wanting nothing more than to taste her lips, his hand lifting from the rail.

"Brienne," he said roughly, his hand pressed against her lips. They were warm and soft under his fingertips, Jaime wondered if he would get the chance to feel them against his lips. She froze against his hand, her face and neck taking up that blotchy red blush Jaime had noticed before, and pulled back. Jaime continued before she had the chance to move further away. "I want to, I have never wanted to kiss anyone this much."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have before I told you," she said, her voice barely a whisper, her breath against his fingertips. "You don't know--"

"That there's no wedding anymore? Yes, I do." They stared at each other for a moment, Brienne straightened and Jaime finally let his hand fall back to the railing. "Olenna told me."

"Oh."

"I'm glad," he said, keeping his eyes on Brienne's, his hands clenched on the railing. "You deserve so much better than him, I am sure you have heard this from everyone else who loves you." She didn't interrupt him but her eyes widened and her jaw clenched, her own hands gripping the rail now. "I knew from the first consultation you two shouldn't get married, but as I told Olenna, I get paid when people do. And my brother gets paid when it doesn't work out. Turns out I wasn't the only one who thought so." He turned to look at the sea, unable to hold her gaze anymore. "It sounds stupid if you hear it told now, but Olenna sent you to me not because I'm the best at what I do, or because we're friends and she would foot the bill, but because somehow she got it in her crazy head that just being around ' _my irritating and charming self_ ' would be enough to show you deserved so much better than Cunt." Brienne startled by his side and Jaime realized he had finally called him that out loud to Brienne. He wasn't going to apologize, though, not for that. "I agreed because what Olenna wants, Olenna gets, and because the only other option for me was acting like an asshole or sticking you with Elia." And after meeting Hyle again he hadn't wanted to do either. "I took your commission and was very glad that he left it all for you because I honestly enjoyed the time we spent together in my office. And out of it as well. It wasn't planned, not when I met you at the cinema or the bridal shop, and I really didn't know you would be here this weekend."

"Olenna did," Brienne said, because of course if Selwyn had known so had Olenna. "You said she told you to come during the weekend."

"Yes, but she didn't say why. I had to tell you because, well, you've probably noticed I like you. It didn't feel right with you not knowing."

"What are you trying to tell me, that Olenna set it all up so I would fall for you? And you went along with it?" Brienne's voice sounded odd, rough and hurt. Jaime risked a look at her, the bottom falling off his stomach when he saw her shuttered expression. "Why?"

"No, that wasn't the point," he hurried to explain. 

"And what was the point then?"

"We wanted you to realize you didn't need to settle for a man that doesn't treat you like the wonder you are." 

" _The wonder I am_." She laughed, low and mirthless. That was when Jaime realized there was something more than 'a white lie' like Olenna had said. "I always thought that in spite of what Roelle had always said about me there was someone who would, one day, love me for myself." Jaime opened his mouth to say something but closed it again at the look she gave him. "Then I got into University and the guys there were just as cruel as the ones in my school had been. They called me Brienne the Beauty and mocked me relentlessly, and though I made some friends, it wasn't what I had hoped for. Then, one day, it suddenly changed. The guys started talking normally to me, asking me for my notes in class and lending me theirs, inviting me to study groups and smiling when we crossed paths on the campus. This went on for a couple of months, I don't know what I thought, that maybe they had finally realized I was more than my ugly face and we could be friends. Maybe, dared I hope, one of them would like me as more than a friend." Jaime had a terrible feeling, would have gone to hug her and comfort her if he thought she would accept it. Brienne was staring into the sea now, her back ramrod straight, her arms around herself as remote and approachable ad the Wall itself. "Finally one of the guys, Ron, invited me to a party. A date. Loras told me not to go, that people don't change from one day to the other and he didn't like that sudden transformation. I didn't listen, he had just started to date Renly, who I had liked at the beginning of the term, and I was upset with them. So I went to the party. They were all there, Ron in the middle of the group with a rose in his hand which he threw at me before he laughed." She had said no roses for the flowers, had been one of the things she had not budged on, though they were traditional flowers for wedding bouquets. "Turned out, it was all a joke, a bet between friends, and Ron had won but he had to decline to take the money, he didn't want to sleep with me. Apparently there was not enough money in the pot for that. Hyle was there as well, in case you were wondering." The name startled Jaime but he wasn't surprised, not really. It made him wonder how on earth had Hyle managed to get her forgiveness and to get her to agree to marry him, but he said nothing. She turned to him again and Jaime almost flinched at the look in her eyes. 

"Brienne--"

"Send the bill for services rendered to Olenna, there is no wedding after all." She laughed, pressing her fingers against her lips the same way Jaime had done before. "I guess there wasn't enough money in the pot again."

Jaime flinched, the words like a punch to the gut. 

He had really fucked up after all. 

She turned around and left without another word, Jaime wanted to go after her and explain until he was blue in the face or she believed him, but he did nothing, just stood there frozen on the spot. She wasn't going to trust him or believe that he hadn't been pretending to like her, that he had genuinely fallen for her because she really was everything he had ever wanted. They had been careless and they had stumbled upon a landmine they had not known the existence of. It didn't matter what their intentions had been, though, if there was one thing Jaime had learned during his time in the army was that once you had stepped on the mine, you were fucked and there was nothing more to do than hope the explosion didn't kill you.

He pressed his forehead against the railing and resisted the urge to laugh or scream, Olenna's voice in his head. 

_"Come on, brat, what's the worst that can happen?"_

_..._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to cut the chapter right after the second scene, however, the last scene just decided to flow and be done in no time so I don't have to up the chapter count! Yay, just one more, I'm going to miss this verse.   
> and now, what we all have wanted since the first chapter :)

Brienne stared at the white ceiling of the hotel room she was in, eyes burning and stomach churning. 

She refused to cry, though. She could still see Jaime's face when they were on the ferry, right before she--right before. His eyes had been soft, a vibrant green with blown pupils fixed on her. His mouth had that same soft smile he'd had with the kids, and his lips had looked so inviting Brienne had forgotten herself for a moment. Had forgotten she was not the kind of person who got to have something like this. 

On the bedside table, her mobile started vibrating for the tenth time since she had been there. She looked at it and saw a message from her father.

' _Where are you, child? Call me._ '

She had more than ten missed calls from him and the time told her it was late at night already and she would normally have sent him a message telling him she had arrived safe and sound. He must be worried.

She grabbed her mobile and called him. 

"Are you alright, Brienne?" He asked when the call connected, his voice tense with anxiety. 

Brienne closed her eyes, she wanted to reassure him she was fine, she just hadn't felt like dealing with Hyle tonight, not when she was feeling so fragile, and had decided to get a hotel room by the port. "Did you know?" is what came out, she heard his sigh and that was all the answer she needed. 

"I'm so sorry, child," he began, his voice soft and regretful now.

" _Did you?_ " She wouldn't believe it until he admitted it out loud.

" _It was my idea_."

She lost the fight with her tears then and hung up the phone, resisting the urge to throw it against the wall. It started ringing again immediately, Brienne gritted her teeth and forced herself to ignore it. She couldn't understand, why would her father do that? How could he? He had always insisted she deserved to be loved, had always told her he loved her. He had been the one who fired Roelle, the one who embraced her when she returned home after that time in Uni, though she had never told him what had really happened. Her father had been the one constant of love in her life, for him to do something like this, to hurt her this way--no, it couldn't be. There had to be an explanation. 

She wiped her tears and sat up on the bed and picked up her phone again. There were many more missed calls and several messages. 

' _Brienne, pick up the phone and talk to me or so help me I'll get on the next ferry out and camp in your house until you do, and you don't want me in the same room with Hyle._ '

She took a few deep breaths and wiped her eyes until they were dry. She was going to call her father and she was going to listen to him, she needed to because he was her father and he had always loved her. She couldn't accept that he didn't, and if he loved her then there was no way he would want to hurt her this way. 

He picked up on the first ring. "Brienne--"

"Why?" She asked, proud of the fact her voice didn't break. 

Her father sighed, the deep one he released when he was measuring his words before he spoke. He had been the one to teach her to always think before she spoke, even if it delayed her response by a few seconds. That it was better to be slow to respond than quick to hurt.

"You were so unhappy," he began, soft and pained. It was not what she had imagined he would say. "The last time you came home with Hyle and you were already preparing the wedding, you weren't excited or even happy about getting married. You tried to hide it, but it was as if you were getting married by inertia, just going through the motions. It felt wrong." 

Brienne remembered that visit, they had finally set on the date and Brienne had started looking for a dress but Hyle wasn't moving at all. It had irritated her and she had complained to her father, something she rarely did because she knew her father didn't like Hyle, that he'd taken so long to set the date and now Hyle was doing nothing. She had said many other things as well. 

"I've never made a secret of my dislike for him, child," her father continued and she focused on his voice instead of her memories. "He's never treated you the way you deserve, always more interested in what he could get from you than what he could give you. That's not love, and that's definitely not what you deserve. But you said you wanted to marry him, and you said you loved him, and you didn't listen to any of us the many, many times we said you deserved better." He took a breath then, his voice going lower and colder, as harsh as it was when he had fired Roelle. "That was even before I knew what he'd done, child. Let me tell you now, after what Jaime's told us, if you hadn't already decided to call off the wedding, I would go to King's Landing and beat that complete cunt for what he did to you." She startled, her father never swore, he must be furious as well. 

"You just did the same," she said, barely a whisper. "You found someone to make me feel I could be loved for myself, but it was all lies again."

"No, Brienne, we didn't." He sounded like himself again, calm and remorseful. "If you don't believe anything else, believe that I love you and I never wanted to hurt you." She swallowed loudly, blinking rapidly to prevent more tears from falling. She wanted to believe that, it was the one baseline in her life, she needed to believe that. 

"Then why?"

Another deep sigh. "After that visit, I complained to Olenna that you were marrying that waste of breath because men were shortsighted and frivolous and no man unrelated to you had ever treated you like you deserve, and wished I could show you didn't need to settle for him. Unfortunately, I didn't know any man I would trust with you. Olenna did, she told me about _the brat,_ as she called him, who was apparently rich and handsome and chivalrous. How he would never judge anyone for their appearance because he had seen the effects of it on his brother." He paused there and Brienne focused on keeping her breathing steady and her eyes dry, her heart pounding relentlessly on her chest. "That was all we did, send you to Jaime's company so you could see for yourself that you deserved better than Hyle. We've been talking to him, yes, and he managed to get Olenna to tell him what she wanted with him, but there was never anything more than this. He asked what did we think he could do if you didn't listen to us. We never told him to seduce you, and we didn't ask him to pretend to like you. He wasn't pretending."

She wanted to believe him, but that sounded too simple. "Why was he in Tarth this weekend, then?"

"Olenna invited him once she realized he genuinely likes you. He, well, he doesn't like people. Not like that, according to Olenna, and she couldn't pass on the chance of doing something for him as well, that was the reason she pushed you together this weekend." There was another of those long pauses, and Brienne hangs onto her phone, pressing it hard against her ear until she could hear her father's breathing as if he was sitting next to her. She hated that it still calmed her, like it had done when she was a kid and she had a nightmare about Galladon's death or Roelle's words, even when she was so angry with her father. "I am very sorry for the hurt we've caused you, my child. It was not our intention, but as Jaime reminded us, intentions are worth nothing once the landmine has taken you at the knees. I'm not blaming you for anything, you have the right to your secrets, but I wish you had confided in me. If I had known, I would have never allowed that cunt to get close enough to you to date you, much less propose marriage."

She felt the tears falling down her face again, and it made her even angrier, with her father and herself. "I didn't want anyone to pity me," she said, harsh and sharp like needles.

" _I don't,_ " he said, firm and certain. "I'm your father and I love you, and I will beat any of those assholes if I ever find who they are, starting with your ex-fiancee."

She couldn't stop the soft chuckle at that, wet and raspy and really not all that funny, but still there taking some of the tension and the fury with it. "I'm still angry with you."

"I know, child." He sounded so sad she knew she wouldn't be for long. "But can you forgive me?"

"Not yet," she said, he had also been the person who taught her she didn't owe forgiveness to anyone just because they apologized, not even he.

"Olenna also wants to apologize to you, can I put her through?"

She wiped at her eyes irritably, she was done with crying. "Not today. Tell her I'll call her when I'm with Marg." She would need to go to Marg's if she was leaving Hyle, at least for a while.

"I will."

"Dad, about Jaime--?" she began but didn't know how to finish because first, she needed to decide whether she believed everything her father had told her and if she did, how that made her feel about Jaime and the way she had reacted in the ferry to his attempt as sincerity. "Nevermind."

"I will only say this about him, when Olenna introduced me to him he immediately recognized me though we had never seen each other before. He said I had your eyes." Brienne swallowed drily. "Get some rest, it's late. I'm sorry. I love you."

"I love you too, dad," she said before hanging up, it was the truth and even being angry with him didn't mean she wasn't going to tell him. She heard the relieved breath on the other side before she hung up, then closed her eyes and leaned back against the bed's headboard.

She needed to think about what her father had said, about what they had believed and what they had lied about. She also needed to think about her reaction to it, and to Jaime.

She had been back to that party with the laughter around her and a rose at her feet the moment he had put his fingers on her lips to stop the kiss, and she had heard Ron's voice in her head. _"Gods, did you really think I would want to?"_ and the horror in it, while everyone else cracked up and slapped him on the back. And the truth was, she had been wondering all the time if that was what would happen. Even as she leaned forward she had hoped for a kiss but had been more prepared for mockery and rejection, even when Jaime had not done anything to deserve that mistrust except being incredibly attractive and interested in her.

In Brienne's world, those two things were mutually exclusive but that was really not on him, she could hear his words now. What he had said when he stopped her.

_'I want to, I have never wanted to kiss anyone this much.'_

He hadn't laughed, he hadn't called her names, and he had done nothing truly unforgivable.

Maybe they could apologize and forgive each other and talk like mature people, but Brienne needed time. First, she needed to sort out her life and find the way to forgive her father because good intentions or not, he had still lied to her and plotted behind her back and hurt her.

She might have time to think about romance after that.

…

Brienne had her suitcase ready when Hyle got home after work. She had thought of nothing but this conversation since her return from Tarth, and as unpleasant as it was going to be, it was necessary. 

She had already put it off for two days, her hen party was in three days and she couldn't in good conscience go ahead with it. 

For a long moment she had considered going forward with the wedding anyway; she was still hurt and angry, with both her father and Olenna. And with Jaime, though that was a completely different can of worms she wasn't touching yet. It would be cutting off her nose to spite her face, though, she had already decided to leave Hyle before they told her, and it had nothing to do with Jaime and everything to do with her. They had been right wanting her out of that relationship before she made a bigger mistake, though the way they had gone around it was wrong.

He came in and left his bag by the door as always and his coat on the back of the chair, Brienne wasn't going to miss that. She knew she was going to miss him, they had lived together for years after all, and though she might not love him she did care for him. 

"Hey Brie," he said walking past her on his way to the couch, pressing a careless peck on her cheek. Brienne's eyebrows shot up, the suitcase wasn't exactly small. A moment later he stopped and turned around, eyes zeroing on it. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes, I'm going to Marg's place for a bit."

"I thought it was the day before the wedding that it was bad luck to see the bride, we have over ten days till then." 

Brienne shook her head. "No, we don't." She took a deep breath and thought about the Blue Knight, about standing in front of the armour and wondering where the girl who had wanted to be her had gone to. She borrowed the courage from her again. "I'm cancelling the wedding."

Hyle narrowed his eyes at her. "You're what?"

"I don't think we should marry, we really shouldn't."

"Where's this coming from, you were fine with it before you left for Tarth? What did your father and that old bitch say to you?" He asked, voice low and dripping with venom. 

Maybe she wasn't going to miss him too much, after all.

"This is not working, Hyle, it hasn't really been working since before it started and I still convinced myself we could get married," she said, calmly, trying to be reasonable. He had to know it was the truth.

"It was working before," Hyle insisted. "We are good together."

She almost laughed. " _Are we?_ When was the last time we were out together?"

Hyle shrugged. "We don't like the same things, many couples don't. We're still good, we have good times at home."

"Do we?" She spent time at home, and so did he. Not together. "What's the name of my TA? How far along in the next book I am? What's the last movie I went to watch at the cinema? And the last book I read?" She was classy enough not to bring up their lacklustre sex life. 

He pursed his lips, a furrow on his brow that meant he was getting annoyed. She could read him, she had always been able to, and he was gearing up for a fight. "What do all those things matter?" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you know everything about me?"

"You prefer football to rugby but pretend otherwise because at work they have a weekly betting pool. You have never won because you don't really care about rugby, you're just pretending. You believe the secretary of your boss, Mr Richards, is sleeping with him; it's the only way someone like her, who is a bitch and does her job of chasing you guys for your overdue work and apparently is ugly and fat, can keep a position like that. If it was you, you'd have replaced her already with Marnie from accountancy, who is hot and clever and has never reported anyone for pinching her ass." His eyes kept narrowing as she kept telling more facts. "Last week your team, the Hunters of Horn Hill, lost because, and I quote, 'that cocksucker of a referee' was probably too busy looking at the player's asses to look at the ball. See, I actually listen to you when you talk, though sometimes I wish I didn't."

"I thought that was part of being in a relationship, listening to your boyfriend," he said as if he had already forgotten the first part of the conversation.

"Then you're failing at it because you never listen to me. Relationships are supposed to be equal." He opened his mouth to protest. "Do you know I prefer to wear heels but you have repeatedly told me not to because they make me look ridiculous and like a giant?"

"They do."

"No, they just make me taller than you, which I am. And you don't like feeling smaller." Brienne shook her head, exhausted. They were not getting anywhere with this argument and she didn't care to explain herself. Not anymore. "It doesn't matter, Hyle," she said tiredly, biting down on a sigh. "I'm leaving, we are not getting married. I'm staying with Marg for now, you have three months to find another place for yourself or buy this house off me."

He glared at her. "You know I can't afford this house on my salary."

"You could have saved for the past years. I have been paying for it on my own since I bought it, and I have never complained because you care more about money than you've ever done about me. Don't bother objecting, we both know it. The house is mine, you have three months to find something you can afford or find the money to keep it, I don't care either way, I'll be buying something new."

" _You rich people_ ," he sneered at her, an expression that reminded her of Ron and the other guys. How had she ever forgiven him for that? "Of course you will, you will find a new house but you think you will find a new man? Do you think you have enough money for that?"

"You were going to marry for my money, I have always known that about you, but not everyone is so shallow. And if they are, I have been reliably informed that sometimes a good bookshelf, a cat, and a dildo are better company than some men." She took a deep breath and made an effort to unclench her fists. "I don't wish to part in bad terms, Hyle, we have been together for years, we might not be in love, but I care for you."

He tried another angle then, forcibly relaxing his hands and unclenching his jaw. "I am in love with you."

Brienne almost laughed. "No, you're not." she didn't have any doubt about this. "If you loved me, you would have asked what did you do wrong and how we could fix it. Instead, you have insulted and accused my father and Olenna and then insulted me." She grabbed her suitcase and headed to the door. "Three months, Hyle."

"What am I supposed to tell the guys, that _you_ _dumped_ _me_?" he asked, spitting the word as if it had offended him. Maybe it had.

Brienne didn't look at him. "You can tell them whatever you want. Tell them I didn't pay you enough for eternity with me, I don't care anymore."

She took her suitcase downstairs and hailed a cab to take her to Marg's place, where she requested booze and junk food immediately.

...

Brienne closed the door to her new place, the click of the lock felt like a full stop at the end of her old life. It was time to start a new page, and she couldn't help the smile on her face at the prospect. 

The living room was completely bare except for a stack of unopened boxes, same as almost every other room in the house with the exception of her bedroom where the boxes were stacked around the only furniture already assembled, her bed.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay another night?" Marg had asked her, more for form's sake than anything else. Brienne was sure that after almost four months of cohabitation, fun as it had been, she was eager to get back to normal. "We can have celebration margaritas and tacos."

"I'm just too excited about the new place to wait," Brienne had said, though she had been sorely tempted. Margarita and taco night had become her favourite of the week. "But we can have one at my place next week."

"It's a date!" 

Brienne had hugged her friend and rushed outside to catch a cab. The movers had already collected everything from her old place and taken it to the new one, a two-bedroom apartment at walking distance from the University. Her new furniture was due to arrive the next morning, and then she had the rest of the weekend to unpack and get everything ready. She had not kept anything from the old place, which had been sold almost as soon as she had put in in the market. Of Hyle, she had not heard since a week after she had left. His first messages had been conciliatory, wheedling, but after he'd realized she was serious he had become cold and biting until the messages had petered out. He had still moved out on the last day she had set as a grace period, and Brienne had cried for the last time when she'd gone and seen her things alone in the flat. 

"Not sure whether I cried for the years lost or for the lost possibilities," she had told her therapist, who she had started seeing two months previously. 

"Maybe both," she had said with a soft smile. "Did it feel cleansing? Or did it feel like it dragged you down?"

"Cleansing," Brienne had said with a smile. 

She had cried enough since the beginning of therapy to know the difference now. 

"Then it was a good cry."

It had been, at least that one. Not all the crying she'd done had been, the worst had been right before she started seeing the therapist when she had gone back to Tarth to talk to her father. He had been alone, on her request, and they had been tentative and careful with each other in a way she had not believed possible with her father. They had spoken of all those things that had never come out on the open and which had led to their current problem; their shared pain at the death not only of Galladon but also Brienne's mother during the birth of the twins who never took a proper breath. How much Selwyn had focused on work to cope with his grief, leaving Brienne open to Roelle's abuse, and how he had changed after that, though the damage was already done by then. How Brienne had learned to rely on herself too early, had learned to mistrust people and always believe the worst first. There had been other sensitive subjects brought up, and by the time they were both ready to move on, Brienne wasn't the only one crying. 

They had celebrated their new closeness with Marina's stew, of course. 

"Jaime was here last weekend with Elia and the kids," her father had said after the first bottle of wine was a distant memory and the second one was on its way to becoming one as well. Neither of them was stable, and Marina had already confiscated his car keys and told them she would get them a cab when they were finished. "Rhaenys tried to hide in Evenfall so she could stay forever and Aegon wants to become a mermaid. They all asked about you."

Brienne had blinked blurrily at him then. It was a name she had not uttered since the last time she was in Tarth, not that she had not thought of him. "You talk to Jaime?" She had wanted to pout; Jaime wasn't talking to her. Then she remembered the last thing she had told him and her pout wobbled, the corners of her mouth turning down and her eyes stinging. She had definitely had too much wine, she decided finishing her glass.

Of course, Jaime wasn't talking to her, she had all but called him a whore and then walked away without a backward glance. Of course he didn't want anything to do with her.

"Don't, child," her father had said, putting his large hand on top of hers. "Jaime is giving you space but he's been asking about you to both me and Olenna. That boy is smitten and might be even more stubborn than you are. He'll wait, maybe not forever, but at least a bit longer."

She couldn't remember what she had said in response. She couldn't remember much else about that night except that her father had put her to bed and stuck Morne between her stretched arms before stumbling towards his own bedroom. 

She had thought about what her father had told her after that, had even brought it up with her therapist. Had mentioned how it was impossible to believe a man as beautiful as Jaime cared at all for her. 

"Isn't that view too shallow?" Dr. Argyll had asked giving Brienne pause. "He can't sincerely care for you because he's pretty? Isn't it judging him by the same standard as the people who call you ugly and deciding his values for him?" Brienne had stopped in the process of replying, mouth half-open in surprise. She had never seen it that way and she might need time to process it. "Think about it."

She had and had come to the conclusion Dr. Argyll had been right. Jaime had not acted like he was so much better than her, not because of their looks or for any other reason, the only times he had said anything about her appearance had been complementary. She was the one who never believed people who complimented her, who always looked for the barb behind the words, and the one who apparently attributed value to people judging by their looks. 

It had been sobering to realize.

On her next session, she had brought it up with Dr. Argyll. They had talked about it until Brienne was exhausted and heartsore and wondering why she had not come to therapy much, much sooner. 

She still had much to work on, but she knew they would get there eventually.

It wasn't just her own self-esteem and her relationship with her father, and her living quarters, what had improved. Brienne had also finished the Flight to the Vale, the next of her books, and sent it to her editor. She already had the release date scheduled and a book signing event she had allowed Loras to convince her to do in three months time.

She had promised herself that once her life was on the right track, she would think about romance again. Not that she had stopped thinking about Jaime, at all, in these past few months. She had seen his bright smile and sparkling eyes in her dreams frequently, had heard his voice in her mind asking her about her book with that breathless quality, had thought about the press of his fingertips on her lips and his blown pupils when they were on the beach horsing around. 

Brienne had also found that yes, a dildo and her own imagination were usually better than Hyle's efforts, and most of the time it was Jaime what she pictured over her. Or under her. Most definitely inside of her. 

She had found excuses not to contact him all this time, though she knew from her father that he still went to Tarth regularly and he always asked about her. 

"I'm glad," he had reportedly said when her father told him she was doing much better, that she had a new place and was moving into it. She could almost imagine the curl of his smile when he had said that, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes. "She deserves it."

She had told herself she had hurt him the same way she had been hurt, and that he had more than likely forgotten about her already in spite of her father telling her it wasn't so. She had not been able to tell herself that anymore after the encounter with Elia and Rhaenys the previous week. She had been in the bookstore by the campus and Rhaenys had seen her through the window and dragged her mother inside. 

"Brienne!" Rhaenys had said, running out to her with that lack of embarrassment children possessed. "I was in Tarth with your dad, he's so tall! And Jaime showed me the Blue Knight's armour and sword and he bought--"

"I think that's enough, Rhaenys," Elia had said, pulling her daughter from Brienne's side. "Hi Brienne, we have never spoken, though we were introduced when you were our client."

Elia had been as pretty and smiling as Brienne had remembered, though there was a hardness in her eyes that brought her up short. She had extended her hand for Brienne to shake, though, and Brienne had had manners drilled into her since she was a child. She had taken the hand, which looked diminutive and delicate next to her huge mittens but had more strength than she would have thought. 

"I remember you," she had said, and Elia's smile had widened. 

"Rhaenys, why don't you go pick up one book for you and another for your brother?"

"But mom--"

" _Now, Rhaeny_ s," Elia's tone had been firm and inflexible. The kind to be obeyed. Brienne had smiled thinking that of the two, Jaime was the pushover parent. Rhaenys had left them alone, running to one of the other corridors. "How are you Brienne? Jaime has spoken a lot about you, and I've heard that you have turned a new leaf in your life." Brienne had blinked at her, stunned by her directness. "I was wondering whether this new life has space in it for Jaime; he's beginning to think it might not and I hate seeing him so down. You see for a long time, Jaime had not wanted anyone, even if he said he had loved me before that was nothing compared to this. I was happy for him, at least until the moment he came back from Tarth heartbroken and filled with guilt." Elia's tone had begun to lose the softness and her posture has straightened. She still didn't reach any further than Brienne's collarbones, especially now that she was wearing heeled boots, but she had an expansive presence about her. "I was the one who recommended him to come clean with you and I've had my share of the guilt for it. I understand you being angry and that you didn't make him any promise, but if you don't intend to forgive him, tell me now so I can tell him to make a clean break. Your father told him to hang in there and he has, I won't let him in this limbo for much longer."

Brienne found her voice after the third attempts. "I don't--" she had paused and began again after clearing her throat. "I have, he didn't do--there is nothing I--" she had given up after that, but it had been enough for Elia, who had been smiling gently once again. 

"Good, don't take too long, if I have to listen to him moaning one more night I might strangle him myself." Elia had turned to leave in the direction her daughter had disappeared in, then had turned to look over her shoulder. "If you ever hurt him like that again, though, I'll make you very sorry for it. I am a Martell, after all."

Marg had snorted with laughter when Brienne had told her later that night, but she had been impressed and a bit terrified. She had never before been given the shovel talk, much less by a woman she could lift one-handed and carry in her pocket. Marg had howled at that and even Brienne had laughed, her mind already made up by then. 

Now she had everything she needed and had run out of excuses. 

There was also a box which was not part of the move on top of the pile in the living room. It was a delivery for her, though she had not ordered anything and her father had confirmed he hadn't sent it. He had been smiling, though, eager for her to open it so he had known what it was.

Brienne opened it now; inside the long box were not flowers as she had feared for a moment, covered in long silver silk was an exquisite reproduction of Oathkeeper. Nothing like the cheap trinkets they sold in the museum, this had been commissioned to a proper blacksmith, and if Brienne's eyes didn't play tricks on her, it was almost an exact replica, except for the Valyrian steel which nobody had known how to work for centuries, down to the gold pommel and inlaid rubies.

There was a note in it but no signature, though she knew who had sent it. " _All Knights need a sword._ "

She really hoped her eyes were playing tricks on her, the sword was probably worth more than the house. She placed the sword reverently inside the box again, already thinking where to commission a propper stand and whether the same artisan would accept a request for Widow's Wail and Jaime would accept the sword in exchange. 

With trembling hands, Brienne took out her mobile and her wallet from her bag, searching for the card she had placed in there many months ago. On the back of the card, scribbled in pen was a phone number, which she put in her mobile now. 

She dithered for minutes about what to write; she could say she was sorry, or that she had forgiven him his part in the deception months ago, but those words didn't feel right. Hesitantly, she typed a message and pressed send before she had time to second guess herself.

' _I'm guessing you have your own sword as well, Ser Jaime._ '

…


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this fic is done! Thanks to everyone who stuck with this fic when not even I had any idea where I was going! It was a lot of fun to share the hate of Cunt and the love for Brienne with all of you! I think we might all be Jaime :)  
> Now let the fluff (and the smut) begin.

Jaime was smiling like all his Sevenmass had come together by the time he went to bed, his mobile telling him it was almost 1:00 am and he was going to be paying for this tomorrow if he didn't get a few hours of shuteye, though he had never felt less like sleeping.

The next day was Saturday and he had a wedding at noon; the flower delivery was scheduled at 9:00 in Vysenia Hill, practically on the other side of King's Landing from his apartment, and though this meant he would have to wake up way too early he didn't think smiling was going to be a problem for once. 

He had been doing most of the weekend setups these past few months because, according to Elia, it kept him from moping around the house. Well, joke was on her, Jaime was done with moping. 

After tonight he had no reason to, and he intended to cash in all the Saturday work.

He closed his eyes on the bed recalling Brienne's last message, a simple ' _Good night, Jaime, sleep well_ ' that had warmth spreading in his chest a grin fit to split his face on his mouth.

He had almost given up hope that Brienne would want anything with him, regardless of Selwyn's assurances that she was interested and just needed the time to get settled in her new life. Jaime knew, had known for a long time, that even once she had left Cunt Brienne would need time on her own before she was ready for any type of relationship.

That hadn't made the wait any easier. 

That day on the ferry, Jaime had watched Brienne walk away from him with a mounting feeling of horror for what she had revealed and waited for a few minutes before taking out his mobile.

"Put me on speaker," he had said as soon as Olenna had picked up, completely ignoring her teasing greeting. She must have heard something in his voice that made her just do it without comment for once in her life. 

He had been right thinking they had not known about what Brienne had gone through in Uni, and he had felt bad for a moment about revealing her secret. But he couldn't explain what happened without telling them what she had said, and by the end of the phone call Jaime was certain that if Brienne hadn't called the wedding off herself, her father would have. After punching Cunt a few times. 

He had waited for Selwyn's message that night, back at his place and staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He had chosen not to go to Elia's, not in the mood for the million questions he was sure both Elia and Rhaenys would have for him, choosing instead to go back to his house and mope.

He had moped, according to Elia, for the following months while he waited for a message he was growing increasingly more convinced he was not going to receive. On good days Jaime believed it was just a question of time; there had been an attraction and a budding friendship between them and though he had hurt her, it had been accidental. As the months stretched and he learned about her from her father, the good days were becoming increasingly rare.

"Brienne asks for you continuously," Selwyn had told him during their last visit when they were having a quick lunch down by Evenfall's cove. Ever since the first time he had shown it to Elia it had become their favourite place there, and they insisted on spending the entire day there, Rhaenys and Aegon frolicking in the water while Elia kept an eye on them. "I think she's embarrassed by her reaction, and still doesn't think enough of herself that you will wait."

He had wanted to prove her wrong but by the end, he had been close to giving up. Jaime had never felt like this for anyone, and though the feeling itself was new and enticing enough, it couldn't be sustained just on Selwyn's word that she needed time.

He had commissioned the sword during their last visit to Tarth when Selwyn had told Jaime Brienne had bought a new flat.

"I think it will do her good to have a place only for herself."

Jaime had agreed with him and had determined to give some kind of present to Brienne as a home warming gift and also as a way to show her he still thought about her. And if she didn't contact him after that, Jaime would take the hint. 

Rhaenys had been, once again, with her face pressed against Oathkeeper's glass case and almost drooling, her fingers leaving smudges where she pressed them as if trying to grab the sword. Jaime had checked with Relling, the curator of the museum, whether they had good replicas of the swords.

One of those would look amazing on the wall of B. Evenstar's house.

"I can recommend you a good artisan who works steel and precious metals," Relling had said, "the ones we sell are not much better than the foam toys you bought the first time."

He had not expected anything to come out of it, but his heart had tried to jump out of his throat when he saw the message Brienne sent him.

' _I'm guessing you have your own sword as well, Ser Jaime_.'

He had stared at it numbly for a whole minute before typing a response, one he had to compose several times before he was happy with it. Never in his life little more than ten words had been so difficult for him to put together.

' _I was considering Widow's Wail, but I'm not sure white is my colour_.'

She had replied almost immediately. ' _Red and gold more to your liking?_ '

' _More like pink and azure.'_

He had been able to imagine the splotchy blush that would crawl up her face at that.

' _Not much of a Lannister are you, then?_ '

' _Nope. And all the better for it._ '

They had continued much on that note for a few hours, just chatting about nothing in particular while the hours not so much passed as they flew, and by midnight Jaime was yawning wide enough he felt like cracking his jaw.

But even if he was sleep-deprived at work, it had been worth it.

...

Jaime was still smiling widely when he got into the office the next Monday.

They had exchanged a few more texts during the weekend but nothing like Friday. Jaime had work during Saturday and apparently Brienne was in the middle of moving but at night they still spent a couple of hours chatting though there were no mentions of her failed wedding or whatever it had been between the two of them that weekend in Tarth.

"So she finally contacted you," Elia said the moment Jaime entered her office, barely looking up from her cup of coffee. Her desk was covered almost completely with venue brochures in Sunspear, where she was organizing the wedding of Ashara Dayne and Benjen Stark. She was lucky they had decided to host the wedding in the south instead of making everyone go to freeze their asses in Winterfell.

"How did you know?" Jaime asked, leaning against her opened door.

She looked up at that, one perfect eyebrow arched up. It still hit Jaime sometimes how pretty she was, with her dark eyes and her bronzed skin and the warmth of her expression. Both Rhaenys and Aegon had inherited her dornish features and darker skin, looking more like Oberyn and Doran than their father, and they were more beautiful for it.

"You haven't looked at yourself in a mirror today, have you?" she said, her voice dripping amusement. "You look like a besotted fool once again." He would take offence if she hadn't been right. Her voice softened and so did her smile. "I'm glad."

"Me too." They smiled at each other for a heartbeat, saying everything they needed in just that look.

Elia looked down at her papers again, the moment over and back to business. "Now, have you spoken with Peck? Tarly has left five messages demanding an appointment this week. Apparently, his son's wedding has to be bigger than Hightower's so of course, you have to be the one to plan it. They won't accept a no for an answer."

Jaime groaned and resisted the urge to hit his head against the wall. He was going to get enough of a headache without help.

"I'll go hunt him down and I'll take care of Tarly." It was the third person asking for a wedding ' _bigger than Hightower_ '. "Is it too late to close shop and become hitmen? You can lure them in with a smile and I'll take care of the rest."

Elia laughed. "It's never too late for that."

He turned and left the office in search of Elia's assistant, his smile a bit dimmer though by no means gone.

It didn't completely fade by the end of the day when he had to deal with three more potential clients each worse than the previous one, and when he got home and found the first message waiting for him it was back in full force.

' _Why did I think classes at 5 pm on a Monday were a good idea? Gods but I'm tired._ '

' _Mondays are always bad, I'm happy to announce I didn't kill anyone, though it was a close call with some clients today._ '

This was the tonic for the rest of the week; Jaime went to work and dealt with his clients, bantered with Elia and mock flirted with Pia and sometimes Peck. He went home and made dinner and read or watched a movie, all along texting Brienne about everything and nothing in particular, and on Saturday they met for a movie and dinner, though neither of them called it a date. 

The change in Brienne was evident the moment Jaime saw her approaching the cinema, the same one they had met in before. She was still the same person Jaime remembered, still tall and broad, freckled and pale blond. She was wearing a summer dress like the one he remembered from that day in Tarth, now that summer had also arrived in King's Landing with it's suffocating heat and humidity, her long legs made even more impressive by her heeled sandals. It was her posture and the smile on her face what were different, her shoulders looked relaxed and her back straight, her eyes clear and almost sparkling when she saw him. 

He had somehow forgotten about the effect she had in him, but his body was only too eager to remind him by drying his mouth and making his palms sweat, his stomach twisting in knots like he was a green boy of fifteen on his first date. 

"Hi Jaime, have you been waiting long?" Brienne asked when she stopped next to him, she had to look down to him, Jaime's mouth was drier than Dorne's desert. 

"No," he croaked, swallowing. "Just got here." Brienne smiled at him and they started moving inside. 

It was awkward the first few minutes, Jaime trying to think of things to talk about and being derailed by the reality of her presence by his side. It should have been easy considering they had been chatting non-stop for a week and they'd never run out of things to say, and yet he couldn't find the words and neither could Brienne, if the side glances and the slight flush on her cheeks were any indication. They stopped by the counter to get some popcorn and sweets but fell immediately silent again inside the screen. After a minute of this Jaime rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. This was ridiculous.

"This must be a date, after all," he said, Brienne's head swivelled to stare at him. "I mean, if it wasn't, we wouldn't be sitting here with nothing to say."

Brienne laughed softly as well. "You want it to be a date?" she asked, but it was more teasing than insecurity in her tone.

"I said movie and dinner, Brienne. You don't get more date-like than that."

"So what you're telling me is you're boring." The corners of her mouth ticked up. "Maybe I should have brought a book?"

He thought about what Elia usually said when people insisted she would change her mind when she found the right man. "Well, you know what they say: a bookshelf, a cat, and--" he was cut off by her loud laugh, the one which had first made Jaime stop and stare, his stomach filled with fluttering butterflies. It had pretty much the same effect now, Jaime laughed with her, eyes fixed on the line of her throat where she had her head thrown back, hands clenched on the armrest to keep himself in his seat instead of climbing all over her lap to taste her laugh straight from her mouth. 

It was the first date, it wasn't polite to fuck someone against the cinema seats five minutes into the first date, he had to convince himself of that. 

He managed to control himself during the entire movie, though he couldn't even remember what it was about once the credits rolled down, and during the dinner and the walk afterwards. He controlled himself during most of the second date the following Saturday, walking down Baelor's park and eating ice cream. He had almost got used to the low simmering want pooling in his gut at the sight of Brienne's long legs and powerful back and arms in the little flowing dress she was wearing. 

"It's too hot in King's Landing," she said when they found a nice patch of grass under the shadow of a big tree, her big legs folded under her while Jaime sprawled by her side. "At least in Tarth you have the sea breeze and you can always cool off by the beach."

"Elia's taking the kids to Tarth this week, I have to stay in King's Landing beginning preparations for Tarly's wedding." He didn't mind staying too much knowing Brienne was also in the city, she was imparting summer classes in the university and didn't have vacation booked for another month, she had told him during their continuous chats. If all went well, Jaime would be able to take a week off then as well. 

"Randyll Tarly?"

"You know him?" Jaime asked, her tone had been more than just curious. 

Brienne sighed, brows pulled together in a frown. "Unfortunately. He was our Professor and a member of the committee when I was studying in Storm's End and when Loras reported what was happening, he said that should teach me my place in life."

Jaime suddenly wanted to punch him. A lot. "I don't like to insult my clients." Brienne chocked a laugh that sounded suspiciously like _'lies'_ but her frown had disappeared, so it had the desired effect. "But that man is a complete asshole. I won't feel too bad for adding a 127 to his bill."

"I thought that was the sexual harassment charge code?"

Jaime shook his head. "No, that code means ' _I really want to kill you but I can't, so I might as well be paid for my restraint._ '"

She choked on her ice cream before she started laughing again, her entire body shaking with it, and that was the death of Jaime's control. He threw the last of his ice cream to the ground and grabbed Brienne's from her hand, doing the same. She stopped laughing when he put his hand on her shoulder and pushed until she was flat on her back on the grass, her eyes wide and expectant, her mouth shinny where she had licked her lips and half-opened. Jaime leaned down and kissed her, holding himself on his forearms as he pressed their lips together. They were slightly cold and very sweet, the taste of chocolate and strawberries still on her mouth. He licked her lips, savouring the sweetness and delving deeper, chasing after her own taste, the one he was really hungry for. He kept kissing her languidly, exploring her mouth and the way they fit together, how her lips were soft and cool while her mouth was so incredibly hot and still sweet, even without the artificial taste of the ice cream.

After a few minutes, Brienne sighed into his mouth and surged up, her hands gripping his hair and one of her sinfully long legs going around his and, before he knew what was happening, Jaime's back hit the grass and Brienne was on top of him, leaving no distance between their bodies, pressed together from chest to knees. She was the one kissing him then, her mouth hungry and hard, her fingers tight on his hair and pulling a bit in her eagerness. Jaime's scalp tingled and his trousers got tighter, she pushed her hips down and Jaime was suddenly unable to breathe or think, the low simmer of arousal turning into wildfire in his veins. He groaned, a sound completely unfit for a public space, his cock pressing almost painfully against the fly of his jeans.

"Brienne," he moaned against her mouth and she pulled back a bit, her eyes dark and her mouth swollen. "We need to stop."

Something of his desperation much had shown on his face because she pulled back with a shuddering breath. "We can go to my place," she said, her voice low and uncertain.

Jaime breathed slow and deep to calm himself. "We don't have to." He wanted nothing better than that, fuck the dinner reservations for tonight, he would be more than happy eating her. 

He didn't want to rush her, though. It was just their second date, he had wanted to romance her.

She smiled and gave him a quick and chaste kiss. "No, but I want to." She stood up and patted her dress to dislodge the stray bits of grass and twigs clinging to it. Jaime stared at her from his position on the ground, the sight doing nothing to ease his not so little problem. She frowned down at him when he didn't move. "Unless you don't want to?"

"Oh, I want to, but I need a minute." Her eyes zeroed on the bulge on his trousers and her face turned a very fetching red. "Or five. And please hide behind the tree."

She laughed all the way out of the park after that, though she kept her distance and even in the cab they sat as far apart as the car allowed, the tension so thick it was a miracle the driver wasn't drowning in it.

A whole Targaryen era later they made it to her house, a second floor flat close to the university. The moment the lock clicked shut behind them Brienne was kissing him again, his erection which had thankfully subsided during the cab ride, was back so quick he could swear he felt the blood rushing down from his head and other, less vital, parts.

"Bedroom," she gasped into his mouth, though she was the one holding him against the door. He wanted to ask again if she was sure but was too busy hanging onto her and kissing whatever skin was closest to him. 

They stumbled blindly to her bedroom, kissing all the time while Brienne worked the buttons of his shirt open and Jaime pulled the thin straps of her dress down, baring her breasts to his sight and covering one immediately with his hand. It fit perfectly, her soft moan when he rubbed her nipple with the pad of his thumb the best thing he'd heard. Her dress dropped to the floor somewhere between the living room and her bedroom, his shirt following shortly and then they were there, Brienne's hands undoing his flies while Jaime's found his way inside her underwear where she was hot and drenched. Her moan this time was loud and long, she was pulling at his arm and taking her underwear off in almost the same move, then she was on the bed already, sprawled on top and breathing heavily. Jaime stood at the foot of the bed just staring at her, his heart beating against his throat and his mouth almost salivating. 

Brienne looked sinful like that, all that pale and freckled skin against a deep burgundy cover, her sex was covered in a bushy blond hair and she was blushing down to her breasts, her chest heaving. "Are you just going to look?"

He shook his head, not sure he could find his voice just yet, and got rid of the rest of his clothes. He climbed onto the bed and crawled over her body, the skin on skin contact making them both shiver, until he could kiss her again. This time he let his weight on her, Brienne spread her legs to accommodate him while they kissed, hands everywhere they could reach. He pulled back after a minute and started kissing down her neck, pressing his lips and tongue against her throat and lower still, paying some attention to her breasts on her way down. She arched up the bed when he started sucking on her nipple, his hand once again between her legs. He rubbed her clit and she groaned, spreading them wider. "I want to eat you out, can I?" he said against the skin of her belly and he felt, more than saw, her eager nod. 

He settled between her legs, Brienne's hands on his hair, and kissed her mound before he parted her folds with his fingers and pressed his lips to her clit, opening them for his first taste. She groaned when he pressed his tongue there, lapping happily the slightly bitter taste. She was wet, he could feel it on his mouth and chin and didn't mind at all, wanted to make her even wetter for him. He went lower until he could push the tip of his tongue inside of her where his fingers were already making her moan and shake, pushed as much as he could inside of her and was rewarded by a sharp pull on his hair. He looked up from between her legs and decided this was his favourite vantage point of her from now on, Brienne's face flushed and her eyes almost black with desire, her bottom lip bitten raw between her buck teeth.

"Jaime!" she moaned and he smirked and pushed a third finger inside of her, checking her expression for any sign of pain. When he was happy she wasn't in any discomfort, he sealed his mouth again to her clitoris, flicking it with his tongue while he fucked her with his fingers. Her moans increased in volume and her fingers twisted in his hair, her orgasm making her tremble all over. He didn't let up, kept licking her even when she flopped down on the bed until the trembling started again, her moans turning into surprised cries. She pulled sharply on his hair after a minute and Jaime moved away this time, crawling up her body to kiss her.

She melted into the kiss, panting against his mouth and returning it sloppily, still catching her breath, a stunned look on her face. Jaime was happy just kissing her like this, even with his cock pressing almost painfully against her hip. It didn't take her long to recover, though, and when she did her hands tightened around him again and she used the same movement as before in the park, swapping their positions until she was on top of him. She stretched and opened a drawer on the bedside table, Jaime moaned at the sight of the condom.

She rolled it on him and straddled his hips, sinking into him effortlessly. Jaime's mind was filled with static, his mouth opened unflatteringly wide while he gulped in air, Brienne's body moving over his and robbing him of breath She put her hands on his chest to get better leverage, a mischievous glint in her eye when she dug her nails to the verge of pain, Jaime shouted and started to thrust up and well. He had never been this hard in his life, not had he ever been as close to coming in under a minute. 

"Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice rough and almost unrecognizable. He pressed his fingers against her clit again and rubbed her, Brienne's pace faltered and she sagged forward. "Too sensitive?"

"No, keep going."

He did, fucking her as hard and fast as he could with the little leverage he had, pressing his fingers against her clit to make her come again before he did. She shook and bent almost double, pressing her forearms to the bed and her forehead to Jaime's, not kissing but panting into each other's mouths as they neared their climax. 

Afterwards, they lay on the bed catching their breaths, still twined together, just smiling at each other until Jaime's stomach made itself known.

"I think we can still make it for dinner," he said ignoring the way his face was probably flushed. 

"Or we can order in, get some energy for the second round." She leaned forward to kiss him again and Jaime let go of the last of the tension he hadn't known was there, not that he had really believed he would be kicked out after sex. Not by her. "We'll go to that place next week or some other."

He liked the sound of that.

…

Jaime checked his mobile again to see if Brienne had replied to his message but there was nothing there. He sighed and hoped the last appointment of the day went quickly, though with his luck he doubted it would. 

He was on his own in the office, and he should have left an hour ago to prepare for his date. Instead, he had to cover for Elia on a Friday afternoon because she'd had to rush home after Alys, the babysitter, called. Pia and Peck were also away, covering their first wedding since their promotion and they still hadn't hired new assistants to replace them, so Jaime was the only possible candidate to cover for Elia. 

"You don't mind, do you?" She had said, dashing out of the door. "Aegon has been crying and Rhaenys says he feels feverish so I have to go." Jaime normally wouldn't, but today was special and he hated to have his plans altered. He was already anxious enough as it was. "It should be a quick consultation, and they are a referral from Selwyn."

"I had plans with Brienne," he complained to the empty room before checking the mobile again. 

It was their anniversary that weekend and they were going to go out tonight for dinner and then Jaime had booked them an overnight cruise to Tarth. He opened his desk drawer and double-checked the ring was there. 

It was. Like it had been there every time he checked for the past six months. Today might be the day he finally put it in his pocket and presented it to her, two years wasn't too early, was it? Well, he had seen everything coming across his office, from people getting engaged barely a week after meeting to engagements that lasted more than some marriages he'd seen. There was not a winning formula, he knew that, and keeping a relationship together was hard work.

It was rewarding work as well; Jaime had rarely been as happy as he had been these past two years, even when they'd had fights and arguments that rocked the boat, meddlesome friends with good intentions and terrible timing, and one big landmine in Jaime's mind left over by his family that blew in their faces when they moved in together and required two months of joint therapy to navigate. 

All of that only made what they had the more precious, so of course Jaime wanted to keep it forever.

He was a romantic, after all, and he wanted his own wedding.

As if summoned by his wandering thoughts, the door opened to let Brienne in. Jaime smiled reflexively, as he usually did when he saw her, and closed his drawer as discretely as he could. "Hey love, I thought you got my message. I have to cover one last client for Eli, and then I'm all yours." He made to stand so he could kiss her, but Brienne went straight for the client's chair in front of his desk and sat down. 

" _I am your client_ ," she said, a secretive smile on her face. 

Jaime dropped back on his chair. "Oh, you want to commission a wedding?" There were butterflies trying to take flight inside his stomach and his mouth was trying to stretch on a big grin. He reined on those feelings, it might be she was just planning her father's wedding, or Loras's, or even Marg who fell in love once a week and out of love two days later. "Who's getting married?"

"I am." Brienne leaned forward and placed something on his desk, he didn't need to look to know it was a ring, and that it probably matched the one in his drawer. "If you'll have me?"

He let his grin on his face at that, taking out his own box and placing it on the table next to Brienne's.

"I wouldn't have anyone else."

...


End file.
